Of Goths and Peculiars
by Ember Belli
Summary: Eighteen year old Minnette was born different from her social life junkie family. But when she receives a strange letter beckoning her to travel to Wales to Miss Peregrine's Home of Peculiar Children, she has no idea why. When she arrives Miss Peregrine realizes what a difficult case of peculiarity Minnette truly is.
1. Minnette Stonington

**xXx To Heather , **

**Thank you for being my beautiful Goth Twinsie! xXx**

It was a bright and sunny morning as I reclined on the front porch of my immense white farmhouse. I had a copy of Dracula in my lap and I was quite into it. It was summer; school had been out for about a week now, and all my classmates were busy wandering around in their summertime glory. All of the females I attended school with would be at the beach, wearing small bikinis, bearing their bodies to pretty-lifeguard-boy Stanley Porter- only the best looking guy in school. And while all the girls were busy trying to make it into the heaven that hear is Stanley Porter's bed, all of the boys were either skating down in the skate park or off joyriding in their crappy cars, considering that half of the boys in my class had all gotten their drivers licenses in the past school year. Anyway, my town was amuck with wild, crazy, weed-smoking, horny soon-to-be- seniors.

And then there's me.

I definitely wouldn't call myself a normal teenager. I was the type of teenager girl that had more interest in Edgar Allen Poe than in any of the boys in school. At least _he_ had a way with words. I attend a school in which only the males have concern about their bodies, their cars, and which girl they'll be taking to bed. Yep, I lived in a town of complete ignoramus'.

Speaking of ignoramus'…..

As I read on, my mother's ugly bright pink jaguar pulled into the driveway. My mother was a complete and utter floosy. She had just returned from the local hairdressers, making sure that her fake blond hair appeared as natural as possible, and that not one strand of her actually-brown hair was conspicuous. She strode up the driveway, Coach Purse dangling from her arm, her high-heels making an annoying clicking noise.

She paused before me as I was lost half-way down the page. I could feel her eyes on me before I actually noticed her.

"Minnette, must you _always _be reading?" she whined. "Why don't you go down to the beach with your friends?" Her hand touched my extremely pale face. "You could use some sun."

I cleared my throat, turning my eyes back to Dracula. "And what friends would that be?" I retorted. It was true; I really didn't have anyone to chum around with. There were a few other outcast girls that found me interesting enough to tolerate my uniqueness enough to make me their lab partner. Otherwise, we never saw each other outside of school, not on purpose, anyway. There had been a few times that I had run into some of them at the local grocery store or at the ice cream shop.

My mother made one of those pesky I'm-disappointed-in-you clicks with her tongue. "What about that nice redhead from downtown?"

I quirked a brow. "You mean Helena?" I sighed. My mother was too dumb to realize that I've told her this a thousand times before. "Her parents don't like me," I said calmly. "They said I'm too weird."

Mother scoffed. "Well, you are."

My family was much too unaccepting of many things. I knew that the lot of them disliked my lifestyle. I am what I called a "Victorian Goth." I enjoyed Victorian clothes, shoes, accessories and even décor. The only catch was that everything I wore was black, only I allowed my outfits to be accented with white, purple, silver or red.

Like my mother, my father and my big sister were social life junkies. On the weekends the three of them found some party to attend, it wasn't hard since they knew everyone in the neighborhood. I was left behind with my world of books, everlasting pile of CD's, my camera, and, of course, my sketchpad. Besides reading, drawing, music and photography were my main vices in life.

But, just like any "normal" teenager, I hated school.

"Daddy, Claire and I are going to the Jones' for a party," she sang. "I'll leave some money on the table so you can order out." And with that, she popped into the house.

True to her word, my mother, father and sister, Claire was readying to leave. I just so happened as to be in the bathroom just a little too long because Claire began to pound her fist into the door.

"Open up! I need my lipstick!"

When I was finished, I grabbed Claire's lipstick rom the shelf, opened the door, and threw it at her aggressively as I strode past her.

My sister Claire was possibly the bitchiest older sister in history. Everything she ever said to me ended with some kind of an insult. As I grew older, and I began to blossom into myself, my sister was always finding ways to torture me. Once in middle school, I had not wanted to attend a school dance. She had dressed me up in pink, stuck my beautiful raven-black hair into a nasty blond wig and plastered whorish makeup on my face.

"You bitch!" she yelled when the lipstick hit her in the boobs. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a mug. She followed me. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Making green tea with ginseng," I replied coolly. I began to mix the ingredients in the mug. I stirred it with a spoon.

"You're such a freak!" she hissed.

I made no attempt to argue with her.

My mother came out of her bedroom wearing the most disgusting dress ever. It was rub red- I did like the color- and it was nastily short and low cut around the breast area. She looked like a whore. My father looked no different, only his shorts were to his knees. He wore a muscle shirt and a pair of ten dollar sunglasses he tried to pass off as those fancy two-hundred dollar pairs you could buy in Hollywood. Claire was wearing a low-cut V-neck and a short skirt. What disgusted me so much was that I was skinnier than all of them, and I never bore my body like that.

"We'll be home late," my mother said loudly. "Don't wait up for us."

Claire and she headed out the door, followed by my father, who said: "Don't burn the house down while were gone!"

I picked up my hot tea and sipped it. "Don't plan on it."


	2. The Letter

I grabbed the twenty dollar bill my mother had left for me, and retrieved my favorite black Victorian sunhat. I placed on my face my favorite pair of vintage sunglasses, and applied red lipstick to my face. Since I had spent most of the day reading and really hadn't had any real interest in nourishment, I figured that a nice big cone of chocolate rocky road would do me well. I tucked the twenty in my small black handbag and headed downtown.

My house was badly placed, or rather; the town of Wolcott was built around it badly. Where my house stands used to be one of the biggest dairy farms in New York State. When our town was built, it was like they built it on the farm. Our yard was only about an acre and a half. Our farmhouse looked so out of place compared to the couple of colonial houses and the numerous ranch houses on our block.

Downtown was quite busy. Everywhere I went, people stared. I didn't care. And to show them that I didn't give a rat's ass about them, I reached into my handbag, pulled out a Marlboro 100, and lit it.

So, add smoking to my list of vices. It wasn't a truly consistent habit of mine. It was simply a stress reliever. Of course, I wasn't in any real stress right now; I just wanted to give the people a don't-fuck-with-me demeanor. No one likes a Goth with attitude.

Maisy's Ice Cream is a little building the size of a hospital waiting room that serves a very limited selection of ice cream. It had become one of the main hangouts for Wolcott's pot smokers and Dred heads. You could hardly walk in there and not see a teenager whose purpose was to go out and cause trouble for the public. This particular type of teenager pissed me off more than any other. They were, however, too scared of me to bother harassing me with rude comments.

I stepped up to the counter to order, only to receive an odd look from the girl who was working.

"How may I help you?" she asked softly. There was fear in her voice.

"I'll take two scoops of chocolate rocky road," I said.

As the girl pressed the numbers on the cash register, I observed that her fingers were trembling. From behind my sunglasses, I scanned her. Around her neck was a Christian cross with Jesus on it. There was the reason; her parents had probably taught her that Goth's are witches. It was a reaction I received from Christians often. I was not discriminate against religions whatsoever. I just didn't have one. I did enjoy reading a lot about Wicca though.

"That'll be two fifty," she said.

I handed her the twenty. As she handed me the change, I dropped a five dollar bill in her tip jar, to prove that I wasn't a bad person. She wasn't afraid to smile at me as she handed me my ice cream. I thanked her both loudly and friendlily.

I walked home the long way, so as to finish my ice cream. When I was done with my ice cream, I stopped in the nearest gas station and bought a mega Monster Energy. Add that to my list as well.

I waked passed the beach. I took a moment to lean against a tree and watch the populars converse. Like I imagined, all the girls were surrounding Stanley Porter as he sat in his lifeguard chair. There had to be over one hundred people swimming and the only lifeguard had his attention where? On Paige Benton's cleavage as she danced to a portable boom box nearby. The beach was full of interesting subjects. Many families with loads of children. Some elderly couples. The worst thing on earth was to see a seventy year old man in a Speedo. And indeed there was a man wearing one, too. It was moments like this that made me wish I had brought my camera. Even if I had brought it, it's out of film. I had forgotten to take my monthly trip to Frames N' Things this month. Frames N' Things was a local camera shop. They sold, bought and repaired old and new cameras. I had a beautiful 1965 Pentax I had bought. It had been in perfect condition, and had come with two rolls of film, a carrying case and five different lenses. It was a package deal I got for only forty five dollars.

I got bored easily at the beach and when I noticed that it was nearly sundown, I headed home.

Later that night, I was sitting at my desk drawing a portrait of myself when I had the sudden urge to look at the clock. It was half-past midnight. My parents and Claire still weren't home. They were getting drunk, no doubt. I sighed and went back to my drawing. I got lost in the textures of my hair when suddenly I heard a strange scratching noise. I sat erect in my chair and held silent.

It came again. Followed by the closing of the mail slot.

_Mail at this hour? What the hell?_

I bolted to the living room, expecting to find a group of people wanting to play a trick on me. Nope, all I found was an empty house. That's when I saw it.

There was an envelope on the floor by the door. As I picked it up and turned it over the envelope said _Minnette._ I gasped. I didn't have anyone that would be sending me mail- especially at this hour!

There was nothing to do but open it and see what kind of things it hid.

Why, inside was an old photograph of the biggest house I had ever seen. It was castle-like, with circular two-story towers and many gables. The house appeared to be concealed in the woods. As I studied it, I felt a strange tingling in the back of my skull. I was so confused. I didn't understand what so ever. Also, in the envelope was a letter, addressed to me, from Wales.

_Miss Stonington,_

_The time has come for your presence to be known at once. _

_I suggest you travel soon. I will be seeing you soon at the Home of the Peculiars. _

_Enclosed is a map that will help you find your way._

_Alma LeFay Peregrine_

I felt as if my head had exploded without my knowledge. I did not recall ever meeting anyone from Wales. A home for peculiars? Alma Peregrine? I knew nothing of this letter, its origins or its writer. I contemplated whether or not to believe it. I peeked inside the envelope at the folded map. Thoroughly I studied it. The words "Cairnholm" and "cave" were written at the top, both circled. Someone had drawn a path on the map with some kind of ink. It started at the area Wolcott was in, and it stretched over the ocean, and stopped at a circled Wales. I shook my head.

Okay, first of all, this letter had come to me at midnight. That was suspicious. Second, some stranger- well, strange woman, considering her name was Alma- wanted me to travel to Wales.

Just then, I heard Claire's obnoxious laughter. My family barged in the door, all drunk. Quickly, I folded everything and tucked them under my arm.

My father approached me. "Hey, Kiddo, whatch'ya got there?" he asked. His breath smelled of pure alcohol.

"Nothing," I replied. "Just a bunch of school papers I found. I'm going to bed."

I quickly made my way to my room. Thank God I had my Monster. I would spend the night looking up Cairnholm, Wales.


	3. A Chance for Adventure

Well, Cairholm, Wales was indeed a real place. After hours of calculating on how I would exactly get there- by a plane and a ferry- I calculated that I'd need three hundred dollars to make the trip. Immediately I retrieved my money box from my top shelf. I kept it hidden behind a pile of books so Claire wouldn't find it. Not only was it a money box, it held many special things. For instance, I picture I had found a Frames N' Things. At the time, they had a huge display of old photographs for sale at fifty cents apiece. The particular picture I kept in my box was from the Victorian era. It was a young girl, wearing a black, ruffled dress, sitting upon a black steed. I had no idea why, but the picture had called to me, so I brought it home.

I found two hundred forty six dollars in my box. I then began to contemplate if I had another secret stash somewhere else. I knew that sometimes I had stashed money inside my pillow case. I found five dollars. It was no use, I didn't have a job and I had no other way of income. I began to feel frustrated. I pulled out the picture of the house that had come in the envelope. It was truly a magnificent house. It was a well exposed photograph, as well. I began to feel strange inside, almost as if the house was calling to me.

I glanced at the clock, it was seven AM. A thought hit me.

I found my mother's purse sitting on the kitchen table. I stared at it blankly. The sound of my mother's snoring as she slept like a rock in her room filled the air. I set to work immediately. Inside my mother's wallet was a variation of bills. Dear God, I never realized that my mother ever had this much money. I counted almost three thousand dollars. Should I really take from my own family?

Then again, if I asked for money to leave, they'd probably give it to me, willingly. It was no secret to me that I was an unplanned child, which my mother disliked, the fact that I wasn't ordinary made her dislike me even more. I had never been treated as well as Claire had. When I began my Gothic lifestyle, I no longer received hugs or kisses, never got tucked in at night, and had to deal with constant verbal abuse from both my mother and my sister. My father never abused me, really, but he did act as if I was just a stranger living in his house.

I took enough money to attain my travel tickets, plus an extra twenty for all of the constant rude comments that came out of my mother's mouth. No, I am not evil, I am just different minded than everyone else. I see people for who they really are, and not just the fake demeanors they wore for the public. I was not a contender of a fake demeanor; I was myself one hundred percent of the time.

I booked a ticket online for a plane flight tonight at five PM, which means that I'd arrive in Wales sometime tomorrow morning.

I hoisted my huge, white vintage suitcase from under my bed. Inside I packed as many clothes as I could. I also stuffed my sketchpad and graphite pencils into it. I also decided at the very last moment to pack my brown leather backpack that I had found in a thrift shop somewhere on our family vacation to California last summer. That was a vacation I had both loved and hated. I loved visiting Hollywood and all that, but I hated traveling with my family. The whole ordeal had me questioning my sanity, also, whether or not I really was my parent's child. In my own strict opinion, I looked nothing like them.

In my backpack I packed my makeup case, my sunhat, sunglasses, some sunscreen and, of course, my Pentax camera- I would buy film at the airport. As I situated my camera and all its lenses into the bag, I caught something in the corner of my eye. From where I stood, it looked huge. I averted my gaze to my window, where a large bird perched in a tree, right beside my window. I gasped. It was some type of vulture or falcon; it was much bigger than our native sparrows, robins, and even crows. This one was gray, with brown spots plastered all over its body.

Slowly, I took a peek at the frame-counter on my Pentax, and felt a burning excitement when I saw that I had one picture left in this roll of film. I quickly changed my 18mm lens to my 350mm lens. The bird remained in its spot, looking in at me.

I could tell that the bird was readying to fly off. Quickly, yet skillfully, I aimed the camera, zoomed in, and managed to shoot a clear picture of it sitting in my window before it could take off.

I sighed. _Success. _

This day just keep's getting weirder and weirder.

I had just finished packing when Claire barged into my room.

"Where are you going?" she demanded loudly when she saw my bags.


	4. Persuasion

"What's the meaning of this, Minnette?" my father demanded.

I was sitting on our sofa, my bags at my side. I was taking shit from my father because I wanted to leave.

I tossed my hair off my shoulders. I had to think of a scheme that sounded so perfect, so intensely normal that they'd have to let me go. Of course, I was eighteen so I could go when I pleased, but they didn't let that stop them. You'd think that because of their dislike of me, they wouldn't give two shits.

"Helena asked me to go on vacation with her," I utterly lied. At least I could pass for somewhat of a decent actress.

I don't think my mother believed me, because she squinted her eyes. "I thought you said her parent's didn't like you?"

_Ha ha, you're a genius. _

"They're not going. It's just me and Helena."

Claire popped the gum she was chewing like she was some snot from the eighties. "Where are you guys going?" she asked noisily.

I sighed and crossed my arms. "We're going to England. Helena has family over there that we'll be staying with."

I had some feeling that I actually was pulling it off. I saw their faces soften when I mentioned England. Must be I hit a jack-pot with that one. England was, after all, a place that a normal family would vacation. Little did they know that I'd be flying over England to get to Wales. Once on the mainland, I'd board a ferry and head to Cairnholm. I had estimated that the whole trip would take me about fourteen hours.

My father glanced at my mother. He stood. :"When will you be back?" he asked.

I cleared my throat. "The end of July," I said. It was only June tenth.

I knew that a whole month without me around sounded great to the three of them, and I saw their faces light up. I leaned back on the sofa and smirked. Knowing them, they'd probably rent my room while I was gone to Claire's asshole boyfriend, Steve. That guy had the intelligence of a piece of toast and the teeth of a badger. He did drive a nice car, though, and he didn't treat me as my family did.

My mother actually smiled. "I think that this will be a great experience for you." She handed me the key to the blue Jetta my father had bought me for my sixteenth birthday. She giggled. I rolled my eyes and collected my bags.

"Don't bother calling, it costs a lot more to call England," I lied. I hoped not to hear from them on my whole trip.

"Well, we can't do that," my father said, pointedly. "Our phone bill is big enough as it is."

As I waked out the door, my parent's both said goodbye to me. Then, as I got in my Jetta and started the engine, I saw them laughing and dancing as if they had just won a million bucks. I sat in my car for just a moment, watching my family fool around in their happiness in the living room. And for once, I realized that they weren't that bad. I pulled out onto the road, put my sunglasses on my face and cranked the song "Ride With Me" by Nelly as I smirked at the thought of escaping for a while.


	5. Cairnholm Island

**A/N: My version of Cairnholm Island is a little bit different that Ransom Riggs' but Miss Peregrine's house and all that jazz shall remain exactly the same!**

I had never been out of the country before, so stepping off the ferry and onto Cairnholm Island for the first time was like a breath of fresh air to me- fresh air that smelled of the salty sea and of wet grass. The flight had been long, but I had wasted most of the time sipping a Coke I bought from the flight attendant and drawing a picture of the bird I had seen in my widow. It had been a beautiful bird and I prayed for nothing but my picture I had taken of it would come out. Otherwise, I just sat doing nothing but listening to my Mp3 player. I slept a little, too. To my surprise, not one person on the plane or on the ferry had even looked at me crossly. I knew then that this trip would be the best thing that ever happened to me.

Once on the island, I found myself standing in a small, nineteenth century town. Small cottages lined the street. I saw a few signs that marked pubs. I took out the map and intently studied it. I focused on the word "cave" that was written on the top. I guess whoever Alma Peregrine was; she wanted me to find a cave here on Cairnholm Island. Any average teenager would have thrown the envelope away, thinking it was a hoax, but with the feeling I received when I read it, I knew that I had something truly amazing hidden within it. I couldn't just ignore such a peculiar incident, and, besides, I loved the way that it was making me feel. It made me feel _special_ in a manner. No one else in my household would've received such an intriguing thing in the mail, I knew that matter-of-factly, and it was a fact that I took pride in.

As I walked around, the natives of the Island looked at me as if they had never seen someone clad in all black before.

I had no idea where to start. I figured that I'd ask someone. I found a small church. As I walked inside, it was empty. Everything around me was finely sculpted and beautiful. I stopped to admire the beautiful stain glass window.

"Why, hello," a voice rang out.

I whirled around to find myself face-to-face with a handsome young man. He had wavy brown hair and big, gray eyes. He was dressed in a black suit.

"Are you the preacher?" I asked clumsily.

He laughed a little. "No, but I'm his son." He had a thick Welsh accent, but he was understandable. He offered his hand. "I'm Allistar."

I shook his hand. "Minnette Stonington."

He licked his lips curiously. "Don't mind me asking, but, is that an American accent?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes."

He looked around as if he was expecting someone to walk into the church at any time. He eyed my suitcases on the floor at my feet. "What are you doing all the way in Cairnholm? Isn't it a little far from home?" he had kindness in his voice.

"I'm looking for a cave," I replied.

"You mean a cairn?" Allistar placed a pondering hand on his chin. He then began to walk in a slow circle, part of his thinking process. He thought for quite a few moments before he faced me again. "The only cairn I know of is up near the old children's home."

Children's home? Was Alma Peregrine a child? If so, what did she want to see _me_ for? And how did she even get my address?

_The time has come for your presence to be known at once. _That line from the letter had stuck in my mind the whole trip. It sounded as if whoever Alma was needed to see me over something important, as if I held the secret to some long-lost mystery or something. The whole thing reminded me of something I would see on the mystery channel on TV.

Then it hit me.

_I will be seeing you soon at the Home of the Peculiars. _

Children's home. Perhaps "peculiars" was one of those European slang words for orphans? I was pretty sure now that Alma LeFay Peregrine is an orphan.

"How do I get there?" I asked quickly.

He shook his head. "I wouldn't suggest going up there all by your lonesome. There are heaps of cliffs and wolves up that way. No one goes up there." He was being utterly irritating. This man had an attraction to me, that was clear and we had only known each other five minutes. Don't girls get married young in this country?

I smirked flirtatiously. Perhaps my odd beauty would be able to get some information out of this young man. I fluttered my eyebrows and pursed my lips slightly. I had seen Claire flirt with many men back home, and I was sure that I could do the same. I kept my eyes sincere but made sure that they appeared to spark interest in him, although they truly didn't. He met me with a small smile, and I reflected it back. I wasn't dramatically beautiful, but I wasn't ugly, either. My charm had to have some kind of weight on this man.

"Why do you need to go to the cairn?" he asked.

I whipped something up fast.

"My grandmother, you see, she lives on the mainland. She wanted me to meet her here so she could take me home with her. She wrote me a letter." I reached in my pocket and revealed the letter. I left it folded so he couldn't read it. "She wants me to meet her at the cave- cairn thing."

He smirked. I must have been matching whatever stereotype these people had about Americans. "Why not just go to the mainland?" Alright, now he was just being ignorant.

"You don't know my grandmother. She's a tricky lady." I winked and put the letter in my pocket.

He sighed. "I suppose I could take you up there with my father's permission."

Good timing it was, for as he just finished speaking, a man in a preacher's outfit appeared. He stopped at Allistar's side.

"Allistar, there you are!" he exclaimed. He noticed me. "And who might this be?"

"Father, this is Minnette," Allistar introduced me. "She's from America."

The man's face lit up. "Oh? Is that so!" He shook my hand. "Welcome to Cairnholm. I'm Father Malone."

"Hello," I greeted happily.

Allistar nodded approvingly. "She's looking to go to the old cairn by the children's home. Her grandmother is meeting her there."

Father Malone laughed. "Your grandmother must be some kind of ninny!" he bellowed. "Well, alright then. Allistar, why don't you take her up there with Old Jack? It'd be a lot easier on the legs." He patted Allistar's shoulders.

Allistar nodded. "Yes, Father."

I bade Father Malone goodbye, and told him to have a nice day. Outside, Allistar disappeared behind the church. He returned moments later with a huge brown horse hitched to a small cart. I smiled. I liked horses.

"So, this must be Old Jack?" I asked, patting the horse's neck.

Alistar got down and picked up my suitcases for me. "Yep. He's a good animal," he said, placing my bag in the cart. "We're wasting daylight. Let's go."

Allistar helped me into the cart. He jumped up beside me and popped the reins. Old Jack started up the road, which headed out of town. Father Malone was right, traveling by horse-drawn cart was a lot easier on our legs. There were a lot of hills and most of them were slippery from a recent rainfall. As we rode, Allistar explained to me that Cairnholm got its name from all of the cairns that were on the Island.

"There's thousands of them. But the one you're looking for is the biggest for miles."

"My grandmother grew up in the children's home," I explained to him when he fell silent. "She wants me to see it. Do you know by any chance the name of the person who ran it?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No idea."

Old Jack began to pull the cart with a will as thick forest began to surround us. His hooves made suction noises with every step as he trotted along. The horse had no difficulty whatsoever get us to the cairn. Allistar pulled him to a stop.

"Where's your grandmother?"

I jumped off the cart and retrieved my bags. "She's here somewhere, I'm sure."

He looked at me serenely. "Would you like me to stay until you find her?" he asked. I know he really wanted to.

I shook my head. "No. But thanks for the ride."

"No problem," he replied disappointedly. "Cheerio," he said as he started the cart slowly.

I stood and watched him disappear into the trees. I then straightened my shoulders, and headed toward the mouth of the cairn.


	6. Miss Peregrine and her Peculiar Children

**A/N: I'm sorry that Miss Peregrine doesn't explain Peculiars as fancy as she did in the book, that part confused my brain! Thank you to astridzeogearfried for reviewing!**

The cairn was rather a tight squeeze. I had to hunch practically on my knees to get through. It was a very uncomfortable position to be in, for my suitcase made it hard to maneuver through the narrow path of rock. I slid through a little at a time, so as to not bump my head or my body into the sides. The farther I got through, the less comfortable it became. I wasn't claustrophobic or anything but I disliked it. I was more than relived when I had managed to squeeze out into the other side.

The sun blinded me. I held a hand over my eyes until they properly adjusted. The smell of fresh grass filled my nostrils and I immediately felt better. I set my suitcases down long enough to smooth my hands over my dress. I picked them back up and I was on my way. I walked for about a half mile before I noticed the top of a structure poking out from the treetops. Everything inside me leapt with excitement. That must be the children's home!

I soon found myself standing at the end of great terrace, overlooking an immense brick house. Once again I set down my bags and pulled out the photograph. I was in awe. The house I stood in front of was the same exact house from the photograph. I lowered the photo and took it all in. In front of the house was a menagerie of beautiful flowers all of different colors. I heard birds singing happily and it felt as if I was in a whole different world- like I wasn't on Cairnholm Island. I could see people moving inside the house, and somewhere I heard children laughing.

_I'm here, Alma_, I thought.

As I stood there, just soaking up the beauty of the house, a voice rang out.

"WWWWIIIIGGGHHHHTTTTTT!" it screamed.

The sound pulled me out of my reverie and I glanced toward the side of the house to see a group of children charging at me. Before I had time to react, two children leaped on me.

"I got her!" shouted a girl that was on my back. She began pulling my hair.

"Ow!" I cried.

There was a boy dressed in a fancy suit, with a top hat and monocle. He had a stick in his hand and he drew back with it.

"Hit it, Horace!" the girl on my back shouted.

The boy named Horace drew back further and gave me a good whap right in the stomach. I wailed out.

"Good job, guys," said another girl. They froze. She stood before me. "Now, let me at her." She cupped her hands and something fiery appeared between her palms. I gasped.

"Roast her, Emma!" yelled Horace.

"No! No! No!" came a developed voice. With what little control I had, I managed to peer toward the house. A woman in a black dress with a bit of a limp was making her way hastily down the terrace from the house.

"Children!" she hissed. "Stop this nonsense!"

"Don't worry, Miss Peregrine! We got her!" said Emma, the girl with fiery hands.

_Miss Peregrine? _ I thought.

"Yes, Headmistress, I'll beat this wight into a pulp!" said Horace.

The woman stopped before us quickly. All I could see was her skirts, for the girl on my back was heavy and I was doubled over,

"That is not a wight! That is my new ward!"

Ward?

The children froze again. The girl slid off my back.

"Ward, Headmistress?" Horace asked.

The woman straightened her posture. She pushed an unruly dark curl from her face. To me, she looked like one of the women I had seen in an old Victorian photograph. I guessed she had to be in her early to mid-forties. She had a slightly big, slanted nose, and circular glasses. She was dressed in a classic gown that buttoned tight to her throat. Her whole physique said _classy_ to me. She shone with her own unique radiance.

"Yes, Horace, ward," she replied smoothly.

The girl named Emma pinched her face. "I don't believe you!" I could tell right away that she was rebellious.

"Miss Bloom!" barked the woman. "Do not make me lose myself in front of the newest."

Emma curbed her tongue. I smoothed the front of my dress. I also tried to fix my hair.

"Miss Stonington. I have been expecting you," said the woman, "Please excuse the children, they can be a bit unruly sometimes."

"That's quite alright," I replied. "Are you Alma?" I asked.

The children gasped.

The woman hardened. "Alma LeFay Peregrine at your service," she introduced herself. "But you may call me 'Headmistress Peregrine', or simply, 'Headmistress'."

I nodded. "Yes, Headmistress Peregrine."

She stuck her nose up, not in a snottily way, but in an authorative way. She took a moment to glance at the children, then, turned her glance to me. "Well, don't just stand there, children. Say hello," she instructed.

Horace stepped up to me. "Why, hello, Miss Stonington, I am Horace Somnusson." He bowed. "My apologies for my former behavior."

"Hello, Horace," I greeted him. "I rather enjoy your waistcoat. It looks nice on you." I was speaking the truth. I had never seen such a young boy dress so stylishly. His manner of speech surprised me as well.

Horace beamed at me, and fiddled with his tie.

The young girl who was on my back was a pretty. She had beautiful golden curls and doe eyes. "I'm Claire Densmore," she whispered shyly.

I giggled. "Well, hello, Miss Claire. My sister's name is Claire."

"Really?" Claire asked.

"Really. You're much prettier than she is."

She smiled and giggled.

I glanced at Headmistress Peregrine, she looked pleased. She turned to Emma, who looked mighty skeptical of me.

"Miss Bloom," warned Miss Peregrine.

Emma scoffed. "She's full of piss and wind," she said, before she turned and went to storm away.

Miss Peregrine looked angered. "Miss Bloom! What have I told you about using those derogatory terms in my presence? You shall be punished in the time to come."

Emma wasn't listening. She ignored Miss Peregrine and made her way to the house. "Yeah, yeah, you old Bird!" she hissed, before she entered the house and slammed the door loudly. I didn't recall ever seeing a young girl talk so maliciously toward and adult.

Miss Peregrine scoffed angrily. She then sighed. "Please excuse Miss Bloom; she can be quite a handful. It looks like you've arrived right on time. I was beginning to go mad without a change of scenery. Come, come, we must discuss. We shall converse in my drawing room." She stepped to my side and gently nudged my shoulder, a signal for me to move. I bent down to get my bags. "No, no," chirped Miss Peregrine. "Horace, be a dear and retrieve Miss Stonington's bags for her?"

"Yes, Headmistress," replied Horace.

As we entered the house, I found several more children staring at me. I had not yet been introduced to them.

Miss Peregrine led me into an elegantly decorated drawing room, with a settee, two Victorian armchairs and what looked like a bookcase of photo albums. I felt as if I had taken a step through time. Miss Peregrine took a seat in one of the chairs and asked me to take a seat. Horace followed us in and set my bags by the doors.

"Thank you, Horace," I said sweetly.

"It was not an issue. Headmistress, would you care for some tea?"

Miss Peregrine smiled. "Why that'll be fine, thank you, Horace. Miss Stonington? Some tea?" she asked.

I beamed. Tea! "I'd love some."

Horace nodded and left the room, closing the door quietly as he did.

Miss Peregrine straightened in her chair. "Now, Miss Stonington, you are probably wondering why you are here."

I nodded. Although I had met a lot of people today, and had finally arrived at the house Miss Peregrine beckoned me to, I still did not understand. I had not expected to walk into such a grand estate of beauty, either. What I had really expected was some IRS agents or some kind of foreign mafia interrogating me about my father. But Miss Peregrine and her children were a nice surprise.

"Tell me, have you heard of us?" she asked. She pushed her glasses up her nose.

I shook my head, sending black pieces of hair to fly in my face. "I'm afraid not since I received your letter, Headmistress."

"I see. Well, in truth, there are two types of Homo sapiens. The dominant one is the one which occupies the world you have been living in. The other type live their lives in concealment from the eyes of whom would do us fatal harm." Miss Peregrine pursed her lips. I was curious if she thought me dull. "We are beings blessed with advanced gifts. For example, as you saw earlier, Miss Bloom and her ability to summon flames."

I cocked my head to one side. "Those were real flames?"

Miss Peregrine nodded. "Indeed they were. All of my children- including myself- possess a special gift. We are known as 'Peculiars'."

Horace strode back into the drawing room, a silver platter with a kettle and two teacups upon it in his hands. He gracefully placed it on a small table next to the settee. He handed Miss Peregrine and I each a cup, and served us. He completed by bowing before he silently evaded the room.

Miss Peregrine sipped her tea.

"Does this mean that I am Peculiar in some form, Headmistress?" I asked. I took a sip of my tea. My, it was delicious. It was much better than the boxed tea I bought in a grocery store.

Being Peculiar sounded wonderful. Perhaps I was Peculiar and I really wasn't my parent's child. After all, both my mother and Claire had blonde hair and my father had brown, and I had been born with striking black hair.

"You must be," replied Miss Peregrine. "Or you would have never gotten here."

In truth, I didn't feel Peculiar. I acted it, for sure, but I felt like a regular person. I held my tea still, and I looked down at my black Victorian high-top boots. They looked almost exact to Miss Peregrine's. I guess that when the Victorian Trading Company claimed to be authentic with their fashion, they weren't kidding. I admired Miss Peregrine- and her sense of style- already. It was as if I had known her my whole life, but that couldn't be, for we had just met. Come to think of it, as I looked closely at Miss Peregrine's gown, everyone here dressed like that. I looked down at my dress, it didn't quite fit in. However, I did have a black, lacey Victorian style dress in my suitcase that would make look as if I lived at Miss Peregrine's too.

"If you don't mind me asking, Headmistress, what makes you Peculiar?" I asked softly, attempting not to put too much curiosity into the question. I sipped my tea again.

She chuckled. "Surely you'd know. It's very unlikely for a Peregrine falcon to be so close to being in contact with humans, let alone in one of their windowsills."

I raised my brows. Miss Peregrine was the bird I had photographed yesterday. How peculiar! A peregrine falcon; Miss Peregrine, it all made perfect sense now! I felt like laughing hysterically but suppressed the urge. I kept my posture straight and my attention on Miss Peregrine.

"When Emma called you a 'bird,' I thought it was in jest," I explained to her. "Now I realize that it wasn't."

She looked as if a heavy emotional weight had been dropped on her suddenly. "Ah, yes, the traditional 'bird' moniker. I ask you to never use it. In truth, I find it offensive. It makes me feel… well, old. It's much too late to ask the children to resist using it."

Miss Peregrine sighed, and glanced at a grand grandfather clock that I had just now noticed. "Oh, heavens!" she squeaked. "Is it that hour already? You must excuse me, Miss Stonington, but I'm afraid that I must prepare supper. I'll have Horace show you to your quarters." She rose slowly, and began walking toward the door.

I quickly shot up from my seat. "But, Headmistress-,"

"Yes?" She paused at the door.

"What is it that makes _me_ Peculiar?" I asked.

Miss Peregrine smirked over her shoulder at me in an odd fashion. "We shall see," was all she replied.


	7. Dinner and the Changeover

Horace was very sweet as he carried my bags for me on the way up to my quarters. As we ascended the stairs, he chatted away about what Miss Peregrine expected of her wards. For instance, no filth was allowed on the furniture whatsoever. If one was to be seen with even a few specks of filth, they were to bathe immediately. Also, breakfast was a seven am sharp, school lessons began at nine am, ended at two pm, and dinner was at precisely five pm. Horace never mentioned a bedtime.

"We don't have a specific time for slumber," he explained when I asked him. "We do, in fact, have a curfew, though. No one is to leave the house after eight pm unless they have Headmistress' permission. And believe me when I say that retrieving permission is harder than trying to alter an opinion of the Bird's- which is hard on its own level."

Horace led me to the very end of the hall of the second floor. He swung open the light blue door and we stepped into the most beautiful bedroom I had ever seen. It had a tremendous four-poster bed, accented with a white lace comforter and matching pillow shams. Two French doors opened out onto a second-story balcony. Before the doors was a beautiful red velvet Victorian chair. There was a hearth next to the entrance, and atop of it sat an iron candelabrum. There was also a writing desk in the corner by the exit to the balcony. The French doors were propped open and the white curtains blew gracefully in the faint breeze.

"Oh, Horace, it's beautiful!" I exclaimed. I clasped my hand together. Although there was not a stich of black in the room, it was elegant beyond anything I had ever seen in my life.

He set my bags on the bed for me. "Headmistress figured that since you're the oldest ward, you could have the second biggest bedroom in the house. Hers is larger, of course. She is, after all, our ymbryne."

"Excuse me? She's what?" I asked.

"Our ymbryne- our Peculiar loop mother. Every loop has its own ymbryne."

I looked at him, puzzled.

"Headmistress failed to explain loops to you, didn't she?" he asked, annoyed.

I nodded slowly.

"Let's just say that there's no tomorrow or yesterday." He clapped his hands together happily. "Now, I suggest you wash up before dinner. Headmistress despises latecomers."

And with that, he left.

I took a moment to explore. I took in every beautiful detail of every piece of furniture in the room. It was even better than being in a Victorian furniture store in the mall. The essence of it was so amazing. I ran my fingers over the smooth cherry wood of the writing desk, and then moved to trace the patterns carved into the wood of the bedposts. For however long I was to stay here, I'd be happy, I knew that right away.

As I dug into my backpack for my makeup case, I set my camera on the writing desk, along with the lenses and the seven rolls of film I had purchased at the airport. I had the key to my Jetta in my pocket. I tossed it on the desk. It was utterly useless, for I had a feeling that Miss Peregrine did not own a vehicle.

I chose my Victorian gown for my dinner attire. I loved it so much because it had a cameo attached the center of the collar. It fit my slender figure nicely. I completed my outfit by pinning my hair up in a neat chignon. I gazed at myself in the mirror over the hearth. I looked like I had come from the times. It was an appearance I rather liked, for I had always thought that I had a Victorian essence to my facial features.

On my descend down the stairs to the main floor, I was greeted by the sound of Claire laughing as a girl I had not yet introduced myself to tickled her playfully. I stood on the stairway as they romped around.

The girl performing the tickling had long strands of stringy-looking hair. She looked to be around fourteen years of age.

"Fiona, stop!" cried Claire between fits of laughter. "I cannot breathe!"

Fiona. The girl with stringy hair. Got it.

I made my way past them unnoticed.

I found Miss Peregrine in the dining room; she was wearing a gray apron over her black gown. There was an immense oak table, lace tablecloth, with twelve places set upon it. Candles burned brightly in the center.

She paused when she noticed me enter. She placed both hands on the table and leaned onto it. "Why, Miss Stonington, you look lovely! The details on that gown are most precise."

I blushed. "I thank you, Headmistress, but my childish appearance is nothing compared to your unique radiance," I replied smoothly. No, I was not being a suck-up. I meant every word I had spoken to Miss Peregrine.

She pressed a hand to her bosom. "I thank you kindly, but I'm just 'the old Bird,' remember?" she laughed. "And childish appearance? Don't be daft! You are hardly a child, Miss Stonington. I was very ecstatic to learn that I'd be taking on not a child as a new ward, but a young woman."

The smell of some kind of cooked meat began to fill the entire house. I was famished and had not eaten since my take off in Rochester, New York.

"May I assist you in the kitchen?" I asked politely.

"Such manners!" Miss Peregrine cooed. "But I must respectfully decline. I have all the help I require at the moment." She strode over, and held open the kitchen door. Inside, Emma was roasting a turkey with her flame hands. A pudgy boy who I had not met yet was busy peeling potatoes and Horace was chopping onions. Near the cookstove, a wooden spoon was levitating above a steaming pot. It remained still for a moment, then, dropped into it.

"Oh!" I squeaked.

"Don't be alarmed, that is Mr. Nullings, he's an invisible." Miss Peregrine leaned into the kitchen a bit. "Do be careful, Mr. Nullings! That pot is treacherous when it's hot!"

"Will do, Headmistress," replied an unfamiliar voice.

When the dinner was served, I was sitting at the table alone. Miss Peregrine entered the room, a small silver bell in her hand. She grinned at me oddly, then, began to ring it.

"Children!" she hollered. "Dinner!"

All of the children swarmed into the room. Horace approached me, took my hand, and led me to the seat closest to the head. "You shall sit here, from now on. Headmistress likes to have the eldest at her side." As I sat down, all of the children took their seats. All 0f them were filled accept for one, which Mr. Nullings was sitting in, I did not know his first name. Miss Peregrine joined us at the table. She was no longer wearing her apron.

"Children. For those of you who do not know, this is Miss Stonington. Please treat her kindly, for she shall be residing here for quite a while."

It felt like I was standing on a stage in front of the whole world. All eyes were on me.

I smiled. "Hello, everyone."

All of the children muttered some type of greeting. Miss Peregrine took her seat. "Eat up, children," she said calmly. "The changeover is soon."

"The changeover?" I asked Miss Peregrine softly.

She nodded. "Yes, dear. I shall explain after we take our supper." And with that, she picked up her silverware and began slicing her meat in a very lady-like fashion. I did the same. It made me think of when I actually used my silverware at home whenever we ate rotisserie chicken. My family would all use their hands.

"You're such a freak!" Claire would exclaim whenever I used my fork and knife.

"Well, I do not want to get grease all of over my skin," I would retort.

When Miss Peregrine noticed me using my silverware, she gave me an approving nod. I did not understand. I took a look down the table, why, all of the children- including all of the young girls- were using their hands to stuff meat in their mouths. Miss Peregrine shot all of them a disapproving look, but they ignored her. Even Jacob, the one Horace had told me was American like me. The food was delicious and tasted way better than any crappy rotisserie chicken from the Food Mart. I bet it was twice as healthy, too.

I practically choked on a piece of turkey as a loud boom sounded from outside the house, it rattled the china and the chandelier above the table began to sway. I swallowed the turkey and shot Miss Peregrine a worried glance. The children fell silent.

"The changeover!" a floating-girl named Olive said excitedly. She had to be strapped in a chair so she could successfully eat her supper.

"Miss Peregrine, may we watch the changeover outside this evening?" asked Claire. I was appalled. She had not referred to her as "Headmistress."

Miss Peregrine nodded. "So long as you wear your masks."

With a huge hooray, the children all scurried out of the room. I watched them as they all ran past the dining room doors, gas masks strapped to their faces. I made no notion to move.

"Would you like to go out with the children, Miss Stonington?" Miss Peregrine asked. "I have more masks."

I shook my head. "I'm alright, thank you." I wiped my mouth tenderly with my lapkin. "What exactly is the changeover?"

Miss Peregrine grinned. She arose. "Come," she beckoned. I got up and followed her into the front sitting room. Outside, the children stood in a group, heads raised. All of a sudden two bomber planes flew overhead.

I gasped loudly. "My goodness!" I shouted. The children didn't as much as move. "Headmistress!" I exclaimed.

Miss Peregrine laughed lowly. "It's alright, Miss Stonington, this is a daily event. It's the foundation of my loop." She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. She took a seat on the arm of the nearest chair. "I refuse to be so close to those things, however, the children find great amusement from it."

I noticed that Jacob had Emma is his arms. Were they together?

The sky lit up an amazing mixture of orange, pink and purple. Miss Peregrine remained silent as she watched intently. The children began to dance. Watching them whirl one another around was better than watching television. Although they had those huge masks on, I could tell they were happy. I could hear their laughter through the glass.

Then something spilt through the sky, and headed right for us. It was a bomb! I didn't understand! Was Wales in some kind of nuclear war? Miss Peregrine did not react, she sat as still as a statue. As the bomb drew closer, I threw my face into my palms and began to wail in fright. I was sure that I was seconds away from my demise.

Everything stopped.

I heard no explosion. I didn't feel anything hit me. My body was trembling awfully. I felt a hand grasp my shoulder.

"It is all right," came the soft voice of Miss Peregrine. "You can open your eyes."

I slowly raised my head from my hands. My eyes were blurry from squinting them too hard.

Miss Peregrine tucked my hair behind my ear gingerly. "My apologies, Miss Stonington, I failed to explain loops to you."

As I looked outside, what I saw amazed me.

The planes and bomb had disappeared into thin air. There was nothing. Everything was still. The sky was a brilliant dark blue and bright stars were visible. A brilliant full moon hung above. The children all stripped their masks off and began to dance once more. Emma and Jacob kissed. It was confirmation that they were indeed together. I wondered what my family was doing at that very moment, back in America. Then I wondered that if I indeed had been hit by a bomb, if they'd even shed a tear.

"I'm sure all of this is rather _peculiar _to you." She said "peculiar" in an odd fashion.

Miss Peregrine looked at me with admiration. "You are destined for great things." She paused and shut her eyes quickly. "Please excuse my ignorance but I have forgotten your first name!" she hissed. She seemed irritated with herself.

"Minnette."

"Minnette. Ah, yes! A lovely name, very unique." She sighed as she glanced out the window once more. "This life wears on a person like myself." A cloud of serious tone came over her then. "Allow me to clean up the remnants from supper, then, I'd like to see you in the study."

She remained quiet as she left. I could tell that she didn't want any help cleaning up, so I didn't offer. From then on I knew deep down that Miss Peregrine knew something that I didn't.


	8. Loops and Ymbrynes

I was busy unpacking the rest of my things, when there was a knock at my bedroom door.

"Are you decent?" It was Miss Peregrine.

"Yes, Headmistress, please come in."

She entered and stood at the end of my bed. "Do you like your quarters?"

I smiled. "They're lovely. I thank you, Headmistress. But," I sighed, "You still have not yet told me why I am here."

Miss Peregrine then noticed my camera sitting on the writing desk. She squeaked a happy sound. She walked over and picked it up. She began to examine it. "Miss Stonington, are you a contender of photographic images?" she asked excitedly. She carefully looked through the view finder.

"I am," I replied happily. "That camera is my life."

"I enjoy the art, myself. Come, to the study!" she exclaimed. She set the camera down. I halted unpacking and I followed her down the stairs. "I have quite the collection of photographic albums in the study." I remembered seeing the bookcase of albums in the drawing room. "If you are in ever in-need of a darkroom, please, do not hesitate to ask!" she said pointedly.

I beamed. "You have a darkroom?"

She giggled. "That I do!"

Oh my! How amazing Miss Peregrine was. I was growing fond of her so quickly. I notice that as we made our way through the house that the children were nowhere in sight. I glanced at the clock in the foyer. It read half-past nine pm. Remembering what Horace had said about the curfew, I took it that the children were up in their rooms. I wonder what time Miss Peregrine goes to bed.

The study was the drawing room. I took a seat on the settee. Miss Peregrine limped over to the bookcase and ran her fingers over the bindings of the albums. She was muttering things from different memories. "Oh!" she squeaked when she found the one she was searching for. She joined me on the settee.

"I first must ask you, what is the year?"

I looked puzzled. Had Miss Peregrine been so busy taking care of her Peculiar children that she had forgotten the date?

"Two thousand and fourteen," I said, half-asking.

"My goodness, no!" She chuckled. "It is Nineteen hundred and forty. September third, to be exact."

My jaw fell agape, I could not stop it. How? When I had first gotten on Cairnholm Island and had met Allistar and Father Malone, it had been June 11th, 2014. Now, for no apparent reason, it was September 3rd, 1940. I recognized the date as during World War II.

_There's no tomorrow or yesterday_, Horace's voice came back to me.

_Loop. _

"Headmistress?" I asked.

"Yes?"

"If I'm correct, your living in a loop created on September third, nineteen forty. The lot of you live the same day over-and-over again?" I asked.

She nodded. "You are quite intelligent, Miss Stonington."

I couldn't believe what my ears were hearing, what I was experiencing. I had indeed stepped back in time when I traveled through the cairn. I paused. "Does that mean that anyone can find you?" I could only imagine what a stranger would do if they happened to stumbled upon this place.

"Good heavens, no. Only a Peculiar can properly enter loops." She folded her hands and set them on the cover of the album. "Which, Miss Stonington, is one proof that you are indeed peculiar. Perhaps the biggest proof of all, except using your power out in the open, of course."

"What is my power?" I asked quietly.

"That," she said as she shifted her glasses. "Is up to you to find out. You must search deep in your heart. Although you were indeed _born_ peculiar, you must accept it and learn to live this life before your power will emerge."

"But, I do accept it."

"Ah. But you do not accept it enough." She then presumed to open the photo album. She showed me a picture of a bunch of girls standing beside a bird, which was perched on the back of a chair. I recognized one of the girls as a young Miss Peregrine. She looked almost exactly the same, only shorter and not quite as thin as she was now. "Here I am beside a group of fellow ymbrynes." She placed her finger on the bird. "And this is Miss Avocet, my former ymbryne mentor. What a lovely woman she was, so inspiring. I was one of her youngest students," she remarked proudly.

"What exactly is an ymbryne?" I asked. I thought I understood, but I just wanted to make sure.

She cleared her throat. "An ymbryne is a peculiar woman- like myself- who is in charge of the different loops in existence. As the peculiar population increases, so does the demand for ymbrynes. It is our job to locate peculiar children in need of a proper peculiar uprising, create a loop, and conceal our wards away from, well, your world."

"That is why you beckoned me here; I needed to be with my own people."

"Yes. Although, quite regretfully, I must admit that I found you much too late to alter your way of living." She scanned me head-to-toe. "Although you seem to know the proper way already."

I shrugged. "I practically raised myself. I've always felt different from my family. Unfortunately they are the type of human beings who have a difficult time accepting uniqueness."

She closed the album and set it between us on the settee. "Your uniqueness is highly treasured; I want you to always recall that."

Being an ymbryne sounded like a tough job, but Miss Peregrine seemed to perform it flawlessly. Observing her as she tended to her daily duties was rather interesting. "How is one to become an ymbryne?" I asked.

"Ymbrynes are _born_, not made. That is why our peculiar power is to assume the form of different species of birds."

"Well, surely, you must know if your born a ymbryne, your last name is Peregrine."

She shook her head. "Peregrine is the name my mentor gave me. I was born with the last name LeFay, but after I attended the academy for young ymbrynes and I discovered my alternate form was that of a peregrine falcon, Peregrine became my proper name."

It made utter sense now. I began to yawn loudly. I felt tired.

"I'm afraid that it is time for me to retire, also," said Miss Peregrine. "I would like you to spend the next few days getting familiar with the other children." I arose and bade her goodnight. "Goodnight, Minnette," she said to me as I quietly headed for my room.


	9. A Good Day

The next morning I had awoken late. I knew this because when I sat up in my bed, I heard the children playing down on the terrace. I slipped out of bed, and crossed the room to the balcony. I stepped out into the morning sun, my black nightgown swaying around my ankles. Below me, the children laughed stridently as they chased one another around in the light of the morning. The air smelled crisp. It was hard to believe that in a few hours everything would be encased by bombs and fire, only to wake up tomorrow morning and do it all again.

"Morning, Minnette," called Claire from below.

I giggled. "It is a fine one, isn't it?"

Bronwyn, the girl I learned could lift extremely heavy things, was at Claire's side. "Come down and play with us!" she cheered.

It sounded like fun. I quickly put on the same dress I had worn on my trip- all I had otherwise was black jeans, and in this world, the girls paraded around in dresses. I wanted to be a part of this world as much as I possibly could. I grabbed my camera, quickly changed the film roll, and headed down to the terrace to romp with my new friends. When I got out there, Bronwyn and Claire met me by the front door.

"You have a camera?" Claire asked.

I nodded. "Would you like me to take your picture?" I asked.

Claire nodded. "Take it with Bronwyn."

Claire and Bronwyn posed happily in front of Miss Peregrine's house, and I snapped the shot. They then began making silly faces at one another, giggling as they did so. I hadn't had the pleasure of actually speaking to Bronwyn, so I was a bit surprised when she strode right up to me.

"What makes you peculiar?" she asked happily. She pushed a brown strand of hair from her face.

Claire began to do a little dance. "Yeah, Minnette! What can you do?"

The fact that I truly didn't know saddened me a bit. I lowered my head. "I don't know," I replied.

"What do you mean?" asked Bronwyn. "Are you even Peculiar?"

I nodded, trying not to let it bother me too much. "I am. Only Miss Peregrine said that my power will only emerge when I am ready for it."

Bronwyn stared at me oddly. "I ain't never heard that one before."

Without much notice, Claire grabbed my camera from my hands. "I wonder if your power is speed!" she shouted playfully as she ran for the back of the house.

"Let's get her!" Bronwyn cheered, charging after her.

I shook my head, then took off after Bronwyn. I found myself in a game similar to bumper tag. We ran round the house about a million times. Bronwyn covered the left side of the house, and she'd attempt to grab Claire as she tried to avoid us. Bronwyn was strong, but not fast enough for young Claire. Each attempt at grabbing her ended with Bronwyn falling face-first onto the ground, where she'd laugh hysterically the hoist herself back on her feet. I wasn't worried about my camera; I knew Claire wouldn't let anything bad happen to it. The next thing I knew, Emma joined in. Claire tossed her my camera, and, jokingly, I threatened her between giggles and took off after her.

The game actually made me remember all of their names, for soon all of Miss Peregrine's children were playing. It was me, Horace and Bronwyn against Emma, Jacob, Millard, Enoch, Olive, Fiona, Claire and Hugh. I caught their names through expressions such as "I'm going to get you, Enoch," or "Hey, Fiona, over here!"

We romped about for what seemed like endless hours. In fact, I think this was good for my relationship with them all, because, once the game ended; we all lay on the ground in a circle, our heads touching.

"What a day, what a day," remarked Horace smoothly. He had taken off his top hat, and it sat on top of him.

"The day's not yet over, Horace," giggled Claire. "It's not even midday."

The Emma gasped. "I have an idea!" she rang out. "Perhaps Miss Peregrine would allow us to go swimming."

Everyone began to remark that that was a great idea. Little did we know that Miss Peregrine had snuck up on us while we chatted away.

"You know the rules, Miss Bloom."

We all gasped to ourselves and sat up. Miss Peregrine stood on the front stoop, looking out at us, tapping her foot impatiently. She softened when she looked at me. "Ah, Miss Stonington, I see you and the other wards are getting on pleasantly."

I nodded. "Yes, Headmistress, I rather enjoy their company."

She raised her nose in the air. "Excellent." She turned to Emma. "And as for you, Miss Bloom, as you recall, venturing down toward the docks is against my regulations."

Everyone moaned disappointedly.

"But, Miss Peregrine!" moaned Claire.

Miss Peregrine raised a finger to quiet her. "But! I have not yet contracted a rule saying you children cannot enjoy the ocean with myself present. Considering the circumstances, I am willing to accompany you down to the beach on the southern side of the Island." By now all of our faces were lit up. "But! You must be on your very best behavior," she warned.

"Yes, Headmistress," we all chirped.

"Excellent. Go now and ready yourselves."

Luckily I had been smart and had packed a black sundress that would be perfect to swim in. Although I was in Europe in a different time period, it was quite warm out for it being September. I gathered my camera from the lawn and attached the UV ray filter for clear shots of the water. Ironically I thought of my mother, I was going to the beach with my friends! I was excited as I had been when we took a trip to the planetarium in seventh grade. When we all grouped in front of the house, Miss Peregrine met us. She was wearing a black hat with a dainty veil that covered part of her face. It must have been for protection from the sun. Tucked underneath her arm was a black parasol. In her other arm was a picnic basket. Behind her, Bronwyn stood carrying a stack of old blankets to set down so we wouldn't get sand and filth on our clothes.

"Everyone ready?" asked Miss Peregrine.

We started to make our way down a wooded path that led from the back of the house. Fiona was out front, and if there were any branches in the way, she'd swing her arms outward, and the trees would move backward, removing their branches from our path. It was one of the most skillful things I had ever seen. I admired the way Fiona charged down the path, making two, three trees move at once. We walked for about ten minutes before the forest opened onto a very picturesque beach. I fell behind the children as I stood and looked around. Miss Peregrine halted at my side.

"Are you all right, Miss Stonington?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm well. It's just….. I've never been anywhere so beautiful."

Miss Peregrine smiled slightly. "'Beautiful' does not even begin to describe this place."

I followed her down toward the water. As they children ran and played, I aided Miss Peregrine in setting out the blankets. When we were finished, she reclined back on one of them, under her parasol, and pulled a novel out from the picnic basket. She looked comfortable, so I left her be.

I waded into the water with Emma, Claire and Hugh.

"I cannot wade too far. The bees do not like water," said Hugh.

"Bees, Hugh?" I asked.

"Do you not know?" Emma asked. "Hugh was born with a bee hive in his belly."

"How peculiar," I replied, tilting my head in curiosity.

Emma nudged Hugh, "Peculiar, indeed. Why don't you show her, Hugh?"

Hugh nodded, then, opened his mouth as wide as he could. All of a sudden, a whole swarm of bees flew from him. They circled the three of us a few times, then, returned to his jaws. I applauded his wondrous skill. Beside me, Emma shrieked when someone splashed her with water. She whirled around to see Jacob laughing. Emma lowered her head and raised her hands. She cried out some kind of battle cry as she tossed a fireball at Jacob. She didn't throw it directly at him, but in his general direction. The fireball hit the water and hissed until it evaporated into steam.

"If I was a hollow, I would have been toast; literally," Jacob teased.

"What exactly is a hollow?" I asked.

"Blimey!" said Fiona as she strode over to the group. "You don't know what a hollow is?"

I shook my head.

"Their big, scary monsters," said Claire loudly.

"With enormous, juicy tongues that'll lick your face right off of you head!" threw in Enoch.

Since I had seen the impossible already, I had no choice to believe them.

Emma put her hands on her hips. "Don't listen to them, Minnette. They're a peculiar's biggest enemy, beside the Wights, of course."

I listened intently. "How do they connect?" I asked.

Emma furrowed her brow. She grabbed me by my arm and began leading me down the beach. "Come, we will talk."

We strode along the shoreline in our bare feet. I liked the way the wet sand formed around my footsteps and got caught between my toes. Every few steps I wriggled my toes just so I could feel the sand. Emma began by telling me how hollows were created to kill peculiars. "If a hollow consumes enough peculiars, they become a Wight," she explained. "Wights are tricky. They live among the normals. Miss Peregrine once said that they know how to control hollows." She sighed, and looked over her shoulder at Jacob, who was splashing water back and forth with Horace. "Jacob is the only one who can see hollows, though. They look like shadows to the rest of us. And Wights look like normal people- like you."

I could tell that something was bothering Emma. In hope that she and I could be friends someday, I decided to ask her what was wrong.

She kicked a stone. "Within the past month, we've learned that the Wights are going around abducting ymbrynes." She stopped walking and faced the ocean. "I'm so afraid that they'll get Miss Peregrine. I mean, we're strong enough to chase them off, but what if they manage to get her?" She had a single tear on her left cheek. She wiped it with the back of her hand. "The others think I don't like Miss Peregrine, but I do."

My heart was being torn for these children. "It'll be all right, Emma. We will protect Miss Peregrine with all of our might." I sighed. "I know that I don't have my power yet but I _am _peculiar. My whole life I've been mistreated because of the way I am, then I come here and it's like…everything's all so perfect. I actually feel like I belong here."

Emma looked at me oddly. "You've made that observation in only two days?" she asked.

She had a point.

"Yes. But these have been the best two days of my entire life." I was speaking the pure truth but I was hiding something. "I just can't figure out how to make my power emerge. I feel so different from all of you because I have a power, but I can't use it."

Emma looked off into the distance, as if she was contemplating something. "Would you like to know how I got my fire to emerge?" she asked. She held up her hands and began to play with her fire. I nodded. "I got really angry one day, and it just happened."

"You want me to make myself angry at something and my power will appear?"

She shook her head. "No. Let the anger come naturally. Allow it to control everything inside of you. Ask Hugh, that's how he discovered his bees."

"Got it."

Emma and I made our way over to Miss Peregrine, who did not raise her attention from her book. We took a seat on the quilt beside her own. I felt a spark of trust being passed between Emma and me at that very moment.

"If you do not mind me asking," I said. "How old are you?"

Emma smiled. "I lost track at one hundred. You?"

I pursed my lips, knowing that she'd think that my low age number would be funny. Ever since Miss Peregrine had told me about the loop I had gotten into the habit of reminding myself that these children were decades older than me. Of course, I wondered Miss Peregrine's age, but I'd never ask her. That was utterly rude.

"Eighteen," I replied wearily.

Emma sat silent. She looked at the rest of the children as they horsed around in the ocean. "You're young!" she said stridently.

Emma's remark made Miss Peregrine smile behind her book. "I do not think our dear Miss Stonington realizes just how young she _really_ is," she countered. She sat up and pulled a pocket watch from somewhere on her person. "My heavens look at the time!" Then without any foreworn, she cupped her hands over her mouth and sang: "Children! It's time for midday meal!"

We then were served the most delicious finger sandwiches I had ever tasted. I sat on the quilt next to Emma and Jacob as the twelve of us laughed and jabbered through the rest of the day.


	10. A Bad Day

Over the next few weeks I had grown quite used to life at Miss Peregrine's. Every day was a new adventure for me, whether it was spent learning about Peculiars and ymbrynes from Miss Peregrine, or out exploring the world of September 3, 1940 with the children, I never had a boring day. I would say that after living here for three weeks, my favorite Peculiar to spend time was Bronwyn. I wasn't nearly as strong as she was, but I was stronger than the rest of the children or Miss Peregrine. Bronwyn and I spent time together by finding things to throw.

Using a pile of old flour sacks that Miss Peregrine was going to throw out, and some bailing twine I had found, I constructed a scarecrow-like dummy. With a red crayon that Claire provided me with, I wrote: _WIGHT _across its chest. Bronwyn and I were often throwing random objects at it, for target-practice.

And another great occurrence had been when Miss Peregrine gave me one of her old gowns to wear. It was black, with ruffled shoulders and a tight button-up collar.

"I'm too tall for it, I'm afraid," she explained when she had given it to me. "I believe it will fit you properly."

It was the best gift anyone had ever given me. I had been on the verge of shedding tears when I thanked her. It was a real gown, not a fake over-priced replica from a magazine. This was the real thing. I had caressed the fabric as I caressed my camera, with complete admiration.

I had slipped into it immediately, and felt as grand as ever. I received plenty of compliments on my appearance in it from the children and from Miss Peregrine herself.

Miss Peregrine also began to help me discover what my power was, through different exercises. For a few days she was convinced that I was a mind-reader, but felt like a fool when she proved herself wrong. In just a matter of a week and a half I had gone through all of Miss Peregrine's exercises and to no success. My situation vexed her. I know it did, though it was not apparent in her attitude. I caught her on various occasions just watching me thoroughly as I went through daily life.

One afternoon Jacob, Emma, Bronwyn and I were running through a nearby field. We were on our way into town. Emma had explained a certain game called "Raid the Village" to me. Although I had no extremities such as super strength or hot hands, I had a solid noggin on my shoulders and a teenager's urge to cause chaos and destruction. We were up to no good, and, quite frankly, I didn't care what Miss Peregrine thought for once.

About a half mile behind us, the rest of the children waited for our signal so they could be our reinforcements.

"We _have_ to be back before the changeover," yelled Emma as we ran. "Or else the Bird will have a cow."

Once into town, Emma began to do as she did best. She burned buildings and threw fireballs at people. Even though I felt evil, I didn't really let it move me, for they'd all wake up tomorrow and not remember our raid at all. Bronwyn took to throwing things such as watermelons from fruit stand and such onto the buildings. The noise the watermelons made when the exploded against the side of a building was quite hilarious. Jacob stood nearby, on the lookout for hollows. Olive hovered nearby, terrorizing anyone she found through second story windows.

When reinforcements arrived, Fiona made large plants grown and wrapped the houses in vines. Horace just stood in the middle of the street, greeting the frightened people as they ran past in a friendly way. Hugh released his bees, and Enoch was found salvaging from graves in the graveyard.

I, however, was the one who ran doing random tasks such as kicking doors in and punching windows. I had to make do with my normal body, without a peculiar gift. I climbed atop the church and began to sing whatever came to my head. I also began to dance in any fashion I pleased. If Jacob recognized one of my songs he'd join in and match my dance.

Jacob and I were in the middle of reciting "I Want it That Way," by the Backstreet Boys, when Jacob stopped suddenly.

I froze. I stood on the church, studying him.

There, in the distance of the fog, was what looked like a group of people. Their silhouettes moved loftily through the thick fog bank towards town. They were too far for me to see who they were.  
"HOLLOWS!" Jacob screeched to the top of his lungs.

Quickly I got down from the church and made my way towards the edge of town. I looked over my shoulder to see how fast they were; pretty fast at that. I noticed the gaits of some of the younger children. We'd never make it out alive with how slow some of them were. I scanned around town as I ran. My mind concocted a scheme that I was awed at.

A horse-drawn cart was hitched to a post at the edge of town. I broke away from the pack of scurrying children.

"Where are you going?" Emma demanded.

I had ridden horses before back home a lot, especially at summer camp. I untied the brown animal and jumped into the cart. I smacked the horse into a canter with the reins. When the children noticed me, they all started to laugh. I stopped just outside of town.

"Good thinking, Minnette," called Horace.

Emma and Jacob smiled hugely at me.

Bronwyn assisted everyone by lifting them one-by-one into the cart. Once they were all in, Emma jumped on the seat with me. The hollows were gaining on us quickly. I smacked the horse and it took off into a lope.

"Where'd you learn to drive one of these?" Emma asked. She laughed like she was having the time of her life.

I urged the horse into a gallop. "Home," I replied, over the cheering of the other children.

The horse carried us over the landscape like it was nothing to its four hooves. In fact, I half-expected it to sprout wings and fly. The horse was nothing like Old Jack, not as smooth. He would do us enough to get us back to Miss Peregrines. Although we were practically flying, the hollows still were in our footsteps. They weren't nearly as fast as our steed, but they were still visible.

"Any ideas?" Emma yelled when she saw how close the hollows were.

"Absolutely," I lied.

"Run, horsey, run!" Claire urged to our steed.

"We have to warn Miss Peregrine!" cried Jacob. "They may have come for her."

Olive had hug eyes. "Unless they've already got her."

With that thought on my mind, I laid one on the horse again. It began to sprint so fast that the cart felt as if it would break from underneath us at any given moment.

The horse began to snort with exhaustion, it was not a completely healthy animal, and I felt a little bad for pushing it so hard.

When I drove the cart onto Miss Peregrine's terrace, I jumped down hastily. I un-hitched the horse from the cart, and smacked its haunches. The beast stood straight up in the air, then bolted forward up the road towards the opposite end of the island, where we had picnicked on the beach a few weeks back. I collected my skirts in my hands and ran for the house, the children behind me.

We bolted through the front door, and I slammed it behind us.

"Miss Peregrine! Miss Peregrine!" all of the children cried in unison. I fiddled with the lock on the door.

There was no answer. The children then bolted around the bottom floor of the house.

"Miss Peregrine! Miss Peregrine!" we all cried.

"YES!? YES!? WHAT IS IT?" came the voice from the stairway. Miss Peregrine hobbled down them as fast as she could. The children re-grouped by the front door by me.

She looked straight at me.

"Hollows," I simply replied.

Her eyes softened. "How many?" she asked Jacob.

"Six," he replied.

The front door began to rattle. Claire screamed.

"Into the cellar, Children!" Miss Peregrine yelled. She reached into a pocket on her dress, and retrieved a brass key. "Go, Miss Stonington."

Horace hurriedly showed me where the cellar was, and we all piled in. I was the last one to enter. I stood for a minute, just looking at Miss Peregrine. She came over to the door. "Don't worry, Children. Everything will be fine," she whispered down to us. She held up the key to my face. "I'm going to lock you in and slide this under," she whispered calmly. "Whatever happens, do _not_ give this key to anyone else but me."

Those being her last words, she closed the door and began to lock it. I could hear the front door being broken. True to her word, Miss Peregrine slid the key underneath the door and I grabbed it.

"Stay strong, my loves," I heard her whisper under her breath.

That very statement made me want to burst into tears. Claire, being the youngest and most vulnerable, made her way up the crowded staircase, and clutched onto me. I could not see anything, but I could hear what was going on with ease.

The monsters had broken in, and they were not alone.

"Ah, Alma Peregrine, I was hoping we'd find you home." I did not recognize the voice.

"It's a Wight!" whispered Bronwyn angrily. She was behind me, her hands on my shoulders. I felt her tense.

"What improper timing," Miss Peregrine retorted slyly. I could just imagine her putting a pipe to her lips like Sherlock Holmes. "As you can see, my children are not present at this very moment."

The Wight laughed. "How darling!" he mocked. "Unfortunately it is not your children that bear our interest- it is yourself. Get her, boys!"

The room filled with the loud hissing of Hollows, followed by the screech of a bird. I pressed my ear to the door. The sound of flapping wings flew past the door.

"Damn you, Peregrine!" hissed the Wight. He snarled. "Find her, boys! I will not rest until I have a stuffed falcon for my trophy room."  
Claire began to cry.

As soon as we were sure they were gone, we flew out of the cellar. Everyone seemed to enter a mode of panic.

"They're gonna kill Miss Peregrine!" shrieked Claire.

"We have to find her!" Enoch yelled.

All of them began to wail, except for Bronwyn. She stood with her arms crossed.

"QUIET!" Bronwyn finally screamed.

They all froze.

"We must make a plan," I said. I turned to Emma. Her greatest fear was about to come to life.

"Miss Peregrine is a very, very intelligent woman," I said.

"Do you think she'll circle back?" Jacob asked.

These children knew just how much time I had spent with Miss Peregrine since I arrived, and just how quickly I had come to know her. In fact, Emma had noted to me one day that she noticed just how connected with Miss Peregrine I was. I couldn't let them fill themselves full of doubt about Miss Peregrine. "No, Jacob," I replied, putting my hand to my chin. "She's much too smart for that."

"Surely she'll come back for us," said Olive. She was stuffed from crying, as well.

Something Miss Peregrine had said to me once came to mind. "Yes, but do not expect her to. Her job is to protect us from those who would harm us. And flying back here so soon with them hot on her trail wouldn't exactly be protecting us."

"She's got a point," said Horace.

"Now, listen, we can't go losing our heads. Miss Peregrine is counting on us to be wise with our decisions. Now, may I have all of your opinions on what we should do?" I asked.

Emma cleared her throat. She raised her palms and summoned her fire. "I say we catch those Hollows and that Wight, and I say we pound them bloody."

When she spoke, Enoch, Bronwyn, Claire and Jacob cheered.

Millard and Horace stood side-by-side, skeptical.

"Horace?" I asked sweetly.

"My apologies, Miss Stonington, but I am not the fighting type."

"Really?" I responded. I quirked a brow. "I recall the day I arrived here and a certain someone kept wailing me with a stick."

Horace scoffed. I had caught him. The children all looked at him with big eyes. His shoulders drooped. "If the lot of you wishes to turn me into a vagabond, so be it." He fastened his monocle in place. "For Headmistress Peregrine," he replied haughtily.

Bronwyn clapped her hands together. "Anyone who wishes to stay behind and watch over the house, say aye."

Unfortunately, Fiona and Millard raised their hands. They probably assumed that their powers were useless. I felt a touch of sadness knowing we'd be leaving them behind. After all, someone had to watch over the house.

"I appreciate you two for guarding the house for us," I said. "Are you sure you do not want to come along?"

Millard said: "Nope."

Fiona: "I'd rather stay behind and tidy up."

"Alright, then."


	11. Rescuing the Bird

The children and I began wandering aimlessly around the forest as we thought of a proper plan. Nothing of the sort was making itself known in any of our minds, must be, because all we did was tread along in silence. The only two- beside me- who were doing any planning, were Jacob and Emma. They took up the back of our traveling formation and were bickering about something I was too busy thinking to care about. I caught a few words here-and-there though.

"This forest is huge, we'll never find Miss Peregrine if we stick together," said Hugh.

"I know, but we mustn't separate. That's just asking for danger," I replied assuredly.

As I trudged along, Horace came to my side. "I believe that I have predicted this event," he said coolly. "Only the outcome of the confrontation between Headmistress and the Wight was much more complex."

"Oh?" I asked, questioning Horace's abilities. "How so?" It was rather boring walking and I wanted to keep my interest peaked on something.

He pulled at his tie. "It involved Miss Peregrine, a cage, and a gun."

I swallowed. "Horace, I beg you, do not continue." A cage I could deal with, a gun I couldn't.

Miss Peregrine came to my mind as I walked. I saw her on the day of my arrival, how she had picked up my camera admiringly, how she had smiled at me on many occasions. I even saw an image of the flacon that had been in my windowsill. I had actually found someplace I felt I had belonged, with an adult who didn't judge me whatsoever- well, only on my mannerisms- and it was all slipping away from me. But whatever happened, I vowed to myself to never regret traveling to Cairnholm. I ran my hands down over the material of my dress, the same dress that Miss Peregrine once wandered about in. I was just making a guess, but I would say that since the dress I reside in now is too short for her, and by her current height, I would guess that this was one of the dresses she wore during ymbryne training. I felt even more honored to wear it.

I owed it to the Peculiar children to try my hardest to get their ymbryne back. Well, she claimed to be my ymbryne, too, but these days I am starting to conclude that I am just not peculiar, no matter how much I wanted to be. Just pondering of how my family would feel that after all those years of verbal abuse, I ended up having some spectacular power. I could almost see their surprised faces.

But wait.

Perhaps this is what Miss Peregrine meant when she had said that I did not accept being a peculiar enough for my power to emerge. Perhaps I was using the thought too much based on getting revenge on my family. I was being selfish when I should have been thinking about Miss Peregrine and all the rest of her wonderful children. I was being utterly selfish,

"Miss Peregrine could be anywhere out here," reported Claire. "This Island is very large."

"Well, she _is_ a bird_,_ she _can_ fly," said Emma. "She'll probably find us before we find her."

"Maybe we could call her?" Jacob asked. "Anyone know what a peregrine falcon sound like?"

"I do, I think," I replied after a few moments. I halted. I cupped my hands over my mouth and began to make a noise that sounded somewhat like a flacon's scream.

Enoch laughed. "That was pretty good!"

I turned to face the group. They were all looking at me, surprise twinkling in their eyes. Had my impression really been that realistic?

"Wow," remarked Jacob.

"Perhaps you can talk to animals?" offered Emma. "Maybe that's what makes you peculiar"

I pondered on that thought for a bit. I remembered the horse from earlier; I had not heard any voices. Again, when Miss Peregrine had been propped up in my windowsill, I still had not heard a voice. I had been around animals my whole life and none of them had ever spoken to me. Finally I replied, "I do not think so."

"Do it again!" Claire urged happily.

Surrendering to Claire's young ambition, I cupped my hands around my mouth once more and repeated the noise. I listened to myself thoroughly this time round. As my screech echoed through the forest, bouncing off the tree trunks, I placed my hands on my hips. The children were right, it did sound realistic. We waited silent for a few moments but the forest remained quiet. Was it really the best idea to be calling a falcon scream when a falcon was being chased by hollows? Truly, I didn't think so.

Come to find out, my efforts for were not for naught. A few moments following my impersonation, I heard a similar noise ring back to me from the west. It was quiet but I heard it off in the distance.

"I guess she can't hear us," said Emma.

The noise rang back again.

"Listen!" I hissed.

The call sounded one more.

"I heard it!" cried Hugh.

"The bird, the bird, the bird!" sang Claire and Olive.

"I'll be damned," said Jacob.

Perhaps I could talk to animals.

Through the trees somewhere, Miss Peregrine called again. Only this time, it was closer. The children lit up. "This way!" I shouted happily, picking up my skirts and taking off toward the west.

As we all ran through the forest, weaving through trees, the youngest children laughed and began to make their own falcon noises. Miss Peregrine sounded her call again, in answer to the children this time. I answered her as well as we ran. It was just like we had ran around the terrace that day, only were we in the forest and Miss Peregrine was my camera. Eager to find her, I sped up. I was in my moment of glory so much that I failed to notice a single line of smoke before us.

Miss Peregrine's call changed to a screech of warning, it was a horrible sounded that made my senses go sour. Her squawks and screeches screamed _danger _to me. I knew then that Miss Peregrine was in trouble, and it was my fault.

"Look, smoke," pointed out Bronwyn. We all slowed to a walk.

The smoke smelled of burning logs. It filled my nostrils and overwhelmed me. I did not appear to affect the others, but it caused me to cough. I suddenly felt too weak to move. I grabbed at my throat and fell to my knees. My heartbeat began to pound within my skull. I wanted to cry for help, but all that seemed to escape my vocal chords was a raspy noise. I felt Bronwyn grab onto my dress.

"What is it, Minnette?" she demanded. "What's wrong?" Everyone huddled around me.

My mind flared images of treetops. Like I was flying above them.

Then _SMACK_ someone hand ripped across my face. My wits regained themselves quickly and I was stable again. Bronwyn helped me to my feet.

"What happened?" asked Horace worriedly.

"I don't know," I replied between pants. I huffed a few times. "Something's not right with me."

An unfamiliar laugh rang out a few feet away from us. "You're damned right something's wrong with you."

It was the Wight! He and two hollows marched from where the smoke drew into the forest.

Immediately I straightened my posture. I became angry quick at what I saw.

He had Miss Peregrine in a cage. She screeched in terror.

He shook the cage. "Shut up, you damn water fowl!" he teased.

"She's not a water fowl," Horace replied haughtily.

The Wight laughed again. "I don't care what she is! She's property of us, now!"

I stood silent to myself as the other children began to mock his ignorance when it came to birds. I remained cool and collected on the exterior, but, on the interior I felt strange. I looked straight into Miss Peregrine's black eyes. I was staring into a sea of worry in those black eyes. I could feel Miss Peregrine's fright. They had us, now, and she couldn't protect us, or us her. Instantly I began to feel light. My head gave me one big pulse, and then, all of a sudden, everything seemed indecisive in the background.

"_Miss Stonington!" _screeched the bird.

My jaw fell agape. Did Miss Peregrine really just talk? Prior to my knowledge, ymbrynes couldn't talk in their alternate forms.

"_Miss Peregrine?" _I asked back.

She squawked and began to flutter her wings. _"You can understand me? But how?!"_

"_I do not know, Headmistress." _

Just then, while I was busy with my attention on Miss Peregrine, someone hit me in the back.

"Minnette, why are you squawking?" demanded the voice of Emma.

I turned my attention to her. I glanced at the Wight, who looked at me with utter curiosity. "I was squawking?" I asked.

Miss Peregrine crowed in her cage, she didn't sound human at all.

The Wight became impatient with our muttering. "I do not have time for this nonsense. I have ymbrynes to find. Boys, kill them!" he commanded the hollows.

The hollows both lurched forward, their tongues like snakes in their mouths. The children stood at-the-ready. Emma drew fire. Jacob raised his fists. Bronwyn looked for something she could throw. Horace raised a stick he had found. And me, being the most useless out of all of us, I stood, staring directly into the eyes of the Wight. He stared back, and, without taking his eyes from me, began to shake the cage violently. With all her might, Miss Peregrine wrapped her talons on the side of the cage, and pecked at his hands. She nailed him a few times.

I heard Emma cry out and it began.

A hollow advanced on Bronwyn. She swung a punch, and sent it flying back a few feet. The creature hissed and its tongues went mad.

Emma presumed to throw fireballs at the other hollow, as Horace began beating it from behind. Enoch and Olive moved toward the Wight. Enoch held tightly to Olive's ankles, and when they were close enough, he tossed her in the Wights direction. Olive got her hands on Miss Peregrine's cage. But before she could float of with it, the Wight grabbed her arm, she screamed. She began to float upward, holding strongly to the cage, so that her feet were above her head.

"Help!" Olive cried.

It was up to little Claire. Bronwyn scooped Claire up and held her at arm's length. She drew back and tossed Claire as hard as she could. As Claire flung through the air, she removed her curls with her fingers, only to have her back mouth clench deeply into the Wight's thigh.

The Wight cried out stridently, and, trying to keep a hold on the cage, went to swat at Claire. Olive's hold must have been too tight, for when the Wight let go of the cage, it flew from Olive's grasp, and went hurling skyward. Miss Peregrine began to screech in terror again. The Wight still had a grip on Olive.

The nearest one was me, for Enoch, Horace, Jacob and Hugh had their hands beating into a hollow. Emma and Bronwyn were working on disposing the other.

"Catch her, Minnette!" cried Claire, her back mouth still holding to the Wight. "Catch Miss Peregrine!"

With all of my might, I sprinted a few steps, and I leaped. The cage landed straight into my hands and I smiled.

"_Are you all right, Miss Peregrine?" I asked her. _

"_I feel just dandy knowing my children have come to my rescue!" she replied happily. _

I paused, Miss Peregrine _was_ talking. I wondered if anyone else could understand her. My arms encircled the cage tightly; no one would be taking it away from me. I cooed at Miss Peregrine. By the time I could turn around to see the children, The Wight grabbed me.

"Bronwyn!" I shouted.

She looked my way. I threw the cage to her. The Wight's hand came over my mouth. Bronwyn broke open the cage and Miss Peregrine took flight. The Wight's hand smelled of pure sweat and my stomach heaved.

Miss Peregrine must have been extremely irritated, for she performed a falcon-dive and dug her talons right into the Wight's face.

"_How DARE you lay your filthy hands on MY ward!" Miss Peregrine hissed. _

She withdrew her talons and flew to me. She landed on my shoulder, and began to rub the top of her head into the nape of my neck. It was a way of saying thank you.

"_Thank you, Miss Peregrine," I said. _

"_I was simply returning the favor you showed me," she replied. _

The Wight fell upon the ground, gasping for breath. To my left, the boys had finished off their hollow, and Emma gave hers one last mighty blast. This whole time I had been traveling with experienced hollow-killing peculiars.

"Miss Peregrine!" they all cheered as they gathered around me.

She squawked at them, but to me, it sounded like: _"Hello children!" _

Miss Peregrine fluffed her feathers. _"Miss Stonington, I wish you to carry back to the homestead. I require some clothing if I am to change back." _

I squawked at her. And even though they were all tired, hungry, and filth-encrusted, the children laughed at me.


	12. I'm a What?

Back at the house, Miss Peregrine changed back into her human form and dressed herself. She then ordered all of us to take a bath. We were quite a filthy bunch from galumphing about the woods. I went first, for I had not gotten that dirty and I knew it wouldn't take me long. The bath felt heavenly on my skin. After thoroughly scrubbing, I lay in the water up to my chin, just enjoying the warmth. As I soaked, I thought about what had happened today. It started off as a simple game of "Raid the Village" and it had ended with us rescuing Miss Peregrine from a Wight. Also, I thought that I had discovered my Peculiar power. While Miss Peregrine was in her falcon form, I was able to communicate with her. Emma had said that I was just cawing at her and that it was all in my head.

But it wasn't.

When I realized that I was done, and that I had taken enough time, I hopped out and slid into my dress.

I made my way to my bedroom so I could have a relaxing evening.

Forget that.

Surprisingly, Emma stuck her head inside my door without knocking.

"Miss Peregrine summons you to the study," she said quickly. She left then.

I paused, my camera in my hands. I had finished off a roll of film photographing Miss Peregrine's world and I was in the middle of cleaning the camera mirrors with a swab. Obediently I set my camera down on the bed in pieces. I was wearing a dress with no sleeves or straps, so I reached into my suitcase and pulled out my back shawl and draped it over me. We had already finished supper and the children were spread about the house getting clean. I normally stayed in my bedroom after supper, so I felt odd leaving my room with my hair down, no makeup, and no proper clothing. I would have taken the time to change, but now meant now with Miss Peregrine.

I found her relaxing on the settee in the study, her pipe in her hand. It smoked lightly. There was no light source but that of the fire that burned in the hearth.

When I entered, she tilted her head back and exhaled a heap of smoke. Must be the abduction had taken a heavy toll on her, for she never usually smoked this much.

"Ah, Miss Stonington, please, sit," she instructed.

I did so. I crossed my legs and pulled my shawl close.

Miss Peregrine put out her pipe and set it aside. "Now, we have much to discuss. I shall begin by offering you a very grateful thank you." She slid her legs over the side of the settee so she was sitting. "What you performed today was both courageous and deserving of my highest respect."

I couldn't help but blush. "It was nothing," I began.

"Nothing?!" She pursed her lips. "Miss Stonington, you saved the children's lives, not to mention saved me from having my abilities taken."

"The children did most of the labor," I pointed to her.

She nodded. "Yes, but you were brave enough to lead them." She rolled her eyes. "Do you know what would have happened had you not rescued me?" she asked.

I shook my head slightly. "I do not."

"Catastrophe." She threw her hands up. "Utter catastrophe. There would be no one present to mind the loop. The children would go awry and would undoubtedly end up in your _world_." She said the word "world" with compete disgust. "Do you know what happens to Peculiars if they spend too much time on the other side?"

Again, I shook my head. "No, Headmistress."

"They'll age and die," she said gravely. She calmed her posture and smoothed her hands on her legs. "And I cannot have that. I've lost too many children that way." I couldn't believe myself when I saw a single tear travel down her cheek. Something inside me wanted to know more about her past.

I remained silent and I looked Miss Peregrine in her face. She was half illuminated by the firelight. "Next I would like to touch on the fact that you could understand my ramblings in my alternate form," she continued in a more serious tone. She set her head in her palms for a few brief moments. She scoffed. "It takes a special type of Peculiar to do such a thing." Her head suddenly shot up. "Who was the one who was calling to me?"

"That was me as well," I replied.

She shook her head. "You're much more talented than I expected," she said under her breath.

"Excuse me?" I asked softly.

She sighed regretfully. She patted the settee next to her. "Come, sit by me," she cooed. I did. It seemed that I was spending half of my life speaking with Miss Peregrine in private. It was becoming a routine event.

"Certainly you remember when I mentioned that ymbrynes are born and not made," she remarked. I nodded.

Miss Peregrine sat idle, smiling at me. She made no attempt to speak again. Instead, she puckered her lips slightly, and began to coo like a pigeon. Something tinged inside my head. I twitched. I could sense what Miss Peregrine was doing- she was trying to see if I could understand her. I could not. I hung my head. She continued to coo.

Focus, I told myself.

Keeping my head down I closed my eyes hard and began to focus on the pattern of her cooing.

Finally she halted. She laid a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. "Do not try so hard, my dear, I wouldn't want you to become overwhelmed. Learning the ymbryne language is rather a difficult feat."

My head snapped up. Wait.

_Ymbryne? _

My hands began to tremble uncontrollably. "Miss Peregrine. Are…. Are you trying to say that I'm….I'm-," I couldn't help but stutter.

She closed her eyes and raised her nose. She nodded slightly. "An ymbryne?"

I exhaled. Here it goes. Every muscle in my body tightened.

"Yes, Miss Stonington, _that_ is what I am trying to inform you of."

My whole world and everything around me seemed to explode. Me? An ymbryne? I covered my mouth and choked back tears. I felt as if I could vomit from excitement, yet from fear, as well. How could something like this happen? Neither one of my parents were Peculiar. I tensed in my seat and gazed into the hearth fire. The flames brought to me the same burning passion I had had when I had laid eyes on my first black dress; the burning passion that had led me to now, the same one that made me who I was today. Beside me, Miss Peregrine folded her hands in her lap and remained silent.

Finally she spoke. "I know how puzzled you must be."

I swayed my head and closed my eyes once more. "But how? Neither one of my parents are Peculiar in the slightest bit."

"Not all Peculiars have Peculiar parents," she responded. "I did not."

I smirked like one did when they heard a bad joke. "A home filled with my own Peculiar wards." How ridiculous that sounded.

"Aye, but not for years to come."

From stories I had heard from Miss Peregrine over the last few weeks, I knew that if this were true- it really was, I believed Miss Peregrine above any other- I would have to attend an academy. I thought of Miss Peregrine and how she had used her talons on the Wight earlier that day. How impressive she was.

I licked my lips. "Well, if I am indeed an ymbryne," I spoke slowly. "Then, what type of _bird_ am I?

"It is difficult to tell at your stage or growth. You will discover soon enough. Miss Stonington, I must ask you to keep this sworn in secrecy between the two of us. You are not yet ready to be thwarting about and exposing yourself to the children. Your opportunity to advance will come in good time."

Miss Peregrine placed her hand on my knee. I pushed it away as I arose, and walked to the front window. I stared aimlessly out into the night. For some odd reason I felt a tad homesick, although back home I wasn't truly living. In the spot where the bomb that "killed" us all during the changeover appeared from, the full moon glistened against the black sky. Although I was in Miss Peregrine's company, I felt as lonely as the moon. It was up there all alone, surrounded by millions of stars. I, an ymbryne, was like the moon, cast in a world of stars- the Peculiars.

"That's why I could understand you, isn't it?" I asked plainly, not leaving the window.

"I'm afraid it is," her voice answered.

"Are you going to ship me off to the academy?" I asked. I quirked a brow.

She sighed like I had asked the world of her. "As my duties as one of your fellow ymbrynes, I _should _send you to Miss Avocet. However, at this moment in time, what with the Wights snooping about, you're the safest here with me." I turned to face her. She began to fiddle with her cuffs. "I'm not entirely sure that I'm ready to part with you yet," she admitted.

"What shall we do then, Headmistress?"

She placed a finger to her chin in thought. "Perhaps, for now, I can instruct you in the ymbryne way myself."

I could tell that after moments of utter seriousness, she'd be glad to see a change in my mood. I smiled. "I'd like that."


	13. Rules and Photographs

The next morning I awoke in time for breakfast. All of the children were already seated at the table, most of them wiping sleep from their eyes or yawning. I took my regular seat and stretched.

"Good morning, Children!" Miss Peregrine sang as she entered the room, carrying a platter full of fresh flapjacks. To me, she acted as if we had not had that discussion last night. As she set the platter down, she winked at me.

She took her seat at the edge of the table. "Now, children, before we consume our nourishment, I'm afraid that I must provide you with a set of new regulations, concerning most recent events." She folded her hands and placed them on the table. "No one will be leaving the property. You may wander around the terrace if you'd like, but you _must_ stay within my sight at all times."

A groan went up in unison.

Miss Peregrine meant business, and to show how serious she was, she slammed a fist into the surface of the table. Everyone jumped. "I will not have any of you wander off and be harmed- or worse- by those monsters!" she hissed stiffly. She turned to me, Emma, Fiona and Bronwyn. "You ladies are my eldest- and most trusted- wards. I am counting on you to watch over the young ones at all times. If you must leave the house, I would like you to travel in the company of at least one other person." She held up a finger.

Next she victimized Jacob. "Mr. Portman, I would ask you to perform thorough sweep-throughs of the property. Your ability to pinpoint the locations of nearby enemies is far too useful to allow to go to waste."

Jacob nodded, "Of course, Miss Peregrine."

She let out a sigh of relief. "You may eat."

The remainder of breakfast was awkward. We all ate in silence. Only quick glances were exchanged between myself and the rest of the children. When Miss Peregrine excused us, instead of leaving, I stayed put. Miss Peregrine asked me what was on my mind, and I simply told her that I hadn't slept well and that I was tired. She muttered something to me about learning how to retire earlier, then, collected the dirty platters and headed into the kitchen. While she was busy scrubbing away at pots, I collected the dirty china and took it to her. I set it by the sink.

"I should have known your Peculiar status just by your mannerisms, Miss Stonington," she said as she wiped away the wetness on a pot. She began placing all of the clean pots on the stovetop in a neat fashion. She was always known for her ambition to keep her home spic and span. "You act like an ymbryne of my years would." She then set the dirty china down in the soapy water. She rolled up her sleeves and began to go at them. "Not to mention your hygiene is impeccable."

"I thank you, Headmistress."

She laughed a little. "You do realize that you do not have to address me as 'Headmistress' anymore, do you not?" She put some elbow grease into her scrubbing. "You're to be an ymbryne, not only by blood, but by status. You're my equal."

"That may be, but I am still a resident in your household- one of your wards, no less- and I feel it only proper to address you as everyone else addresses you."

Giving in to my stubborn, yet proper, reply, Miss Peregrine withdrew her hands from the water. She wiped them on her apron, turned around, and leaned backwards onto the front of the sink. "As much as I enjoy you as a ward, I'm afraid that I will have to let you leave my nest someday." Alright, now she was just being punny, considered we were both birds now. "You will be requiring proper instruction. Most of which, I cannot provide you with. However, I have some basic tricks up my sleeve."

"Can you teach me to fly?" I asked teasingly.

"Indeed I can. We must work on summoning out your alternate form, first. I can't shake this feeling that I am knowledgeable to what species of bird you are."

"And that would be?"

"A Nightingale."

That was a surprise. I loved music, but I could not sing a tune on key if my life depended on it. "But, Headmistress, I do not sing," I replied suavely.

"Nor do I." She turned back to the sink. "Forgive me, Miss Stonington by I am most tired. We shall begin your lessons later this evening. You may run along and play with the children."

I cleared my throat. "Actually, Headmistress, I was wondering if I may use your darkroom."

She twitched. "Have some negatives to develop, do you? Absolutely! It's up on the third floor, second door to the left. I will summon you when I am ready to begin your lessons."

I thanked her and headed up to retrieve my camera.

I spent nearly the entire day in Miss Peregrine's darkroom. As I developed my negatives into endless copies of perfect black and white photographs, I sang to myself. The certain type of old-fashioned photo fixture burned my skin at first, but I got used to it quickly. Another interesting thing I discovered was that the photo developer chemicals she used had a sweet scent to it- nothing like the nasty sensation that burned your nostrils that the photo developer I used in Photography 101 emitted. This chemical was sweet smelling and I got so used to smelling it that by the time I had been in there almost six hours I couldn't smell it any longer.

Other than the darkroom and a few empty closets the third floor was empty so I had quite a peaceful developing experience. Once I emerged into the sunlit part of the house again my eyes took time adjusting. I carried my stack of photographs down into my bedroom so I could enjoy them.

I had almost one hundred pictures when I was done.

I had taken photos of the children at play; there was one of Horace on the stoop, the one I took of Bronwyn and Claire and one I had snapped of Miss Peregrine's house. They were all perfectly shot, I had used the right ISO and everything and none of the hardly came out blurry. I felt accomplished as I sat on my bed cross-legged and shuffled through them many times. I found a photo of Jacob I had taken that I knew I just _had _to give to Emma.

I found her in her room, her face buried in an old romance novel.

"There you are," she remarked when I went in. "We thought Miss Peregrine had banished you."

I smiled and shook my head. "Nope. I've been developing pictures. In fact, I have one that I'd like you to have."

It must have peaked her interest because she plopped the novel on the bed and slid off. "Well, let's see then!" she chirped.

I walked over to her and handed it to her.

As she held onto it, she fell silent. She stared at it in admiration and ran her fingers over the smooth surface. "My Jacob," she whispered. She took a few moments to herself. "Oh, Minnette! I've never seen anything so beautiful! Thank you." She froze. "Are you sure you don't want to keep it?"

"Nope. It's for you."

I left Emma squalling over the picture of her boyfriend and returned to my own room.

I had pictures of Cairnholm Island in the present, a picture of the airplane I had flown in on, one of the cairn on the other side which the loop resides, a picture of Enoch and Olive. There was one I had taken from Miss Peregrine's seat at the head of the table; it showed all of the children seated. There were some of the children at the beach that one day. Claire had taken one of herself. She was lying on the ground and held the camera above her. I had so many more than I had realized. I took a few moments to admire each photograph.

There at the bottom of the pile it was.

The picture I had taken of Miss Peregrine as she perched in my windowsill. It had come out perfectly. Clear, with pure blacks and radiant whites. It was a phenomenon all to itself; luckily, I had enough sense to create two copies. I would give one to Miss Peregrine for her photo album. I was stifled at just what an amazing shot it had been.

Feeling quite grand inside, I opened the doors to the balcony and stepped out. I could see the Welsh countryside. It was a beautiful view. The air was warm and delightful. I saw Jacob, Bronwyn, Enoch, Hugh and Fiona walking the perimeter of the terrace. They were just walking along, chatting and laughing every once in a while. I noticed Miss Peregrine as well, standing on the porch, pipe in hand. She had her favorite black hat on. This place, Miss Peregrine, the children… it was all so amazing. My life seemed perfect. Like we didn't have a care in the world.

Only we did.

Hollows and Wights were ghastly, evil creatures. I knew deep down that somewhere out in the world, some of them were plotting another attack on Miss Peregrine at that very moment. Taking a moment just to admire Miss Peregrine as she smoked, I leaned on the balcony railing and laid my face in my palm. Even in my worst nightmare, I could never contemplate someone ever wanting to harm that amazing woman. Being an ymbryne was the most difficult job in existence, Miss Peregrine had said. Knowing that someday I would have my own house within a loop, full of Peculiar children, made me perceive Miss Peregrine in a whole new way. I was beginning to look up to her not only as a headmistress, but also, a mentor.

I grabbed the picture of Miss Peregrine and headed down to the main floor. I opened the front door gingerly and stepped out on the porch.

"Are you enjoying the day so far, Miss Stonington?" asked the headmistress.

"Yes, Headmistress. I got heaps of photographs developed."

She nodded approvingly. "I'd like to see your work someday."

I smiled. "How about right now?" I asked lightly, holding up the photograph.

"Have at it, then!" She replied with a smile.

I walked up to her and held out the photograph. "I made this one for you. I hope you're not offended by it."

"Oh my!" she said stridently when she took a good look at it. She had exclaimed it so loud that the children in the yard peered over their shoulders. "This is an extraordinary photograph!" She was flabbergasted. "Is this myself?" she asked, pressing a hand to her bosom.

I nodded. "Yes. On the day you looked though my window, back in America."

She pulled her glasses down from her eyes for a split second, and then placed them back before her eyes. "I had not realized that you had a camera at the very moment." She then looked up and squinted her eyes. "I believe I am losing my touch."

I remembered it like it was yesterday, raising my Pentax to snap a shot of the falcon. I had been skeptical about the quality of the photograph until I actually had developed it.

I stood with Miss Peregrine a minute as she studied the picture.

"It's lovely, thank you, Minnette!" she cheered. "I shall place it in my most recent album." She tucked it away in her pocket and looked out across the lawn. "You do not seem so affected by the recent events. Come," she nudged me with her arm, "tell me what's on that mind of yours."

"What if they take me, too?" I asked.

She sighed. "You're in too much young a state for them to sense you. Even if they did, they'd take me again, too."

The she turned her undivided attention to young Jacob. "He shall tell us when they are near."

The group that had been circling the yard came up on the porch. "All clear, Headmistress," said Jacob assuringly.

"Thank you, Jacob," replied Miss Peregrine. "Please tell the others that I shall have supper severed within the hour."

"Will do."

Then they disappeared into the house.

Miss Peregrine turned to me. "Would you like to assist me in preparing supper?" she asked.

I smiled and nodded, then, we both headed into the house to get lost in the world of cooking.


	14. The First Lesson

Later that evening, Miss Peregrine and I met in the study to conduct my first lesson. Dinner had gone smoothly, the children were very-well behaved, and I think that it raised Miss Peregrine's spirits again. She seemed to begin to go under there for a while, in my opinion. We cleared the table in a timely manner and assumed to the study directly afterwards.

Miss Peregrine took a seat in a chair. "Where to begin?" she asked herself. She glanced over her shoulder at the bookcase full of photo albums. She pointed to a hefty-looking green one. "Hand that to me would you, Miss Stonington?" she asked pleasantly. I hastened to the bookcase, and slid the album out gently. It was much heavier than it looked and I almost dropped it when it slid into my arms. I sure was no Bronwyn, for it sagged in my arms. I gingerly set it on Miss Peregrine's lap. She made am oomph sound.

"It is heavier than I remember," she barked. She began to flip through the pages quickly, only taking a split second to connect the pictures with her memories. She had to have flipped through fifty pages of old photographs before her expression changed. "Ah!" she said. Pleased with her finding, she slammed the book shut. Then, struggling but managing, she got it on the table beside her. She stood gracefully.

"Considering you have wonderful mannerisms," she said. "I think it is acceptable to abandon that section of the lessons for now." She began to pace. "First, I shall teach you the proper way to transform. Now, you are most likely to fail the first few attempts. But with patience and a little practice you shall learn quickly." She motioned me to rise from my seat.

"Straighten your posture."

I raised my head and broadened my shoulders.

"Excellent. Now, spread your feet a tad. Good."

She held out her arms and I mirrored her. "Think: fly_,_" she instructed.

I tried to bring forth the images I had seen a couple days previous when the Wight had Miss Peregrine in the cage. The treetops. I could imagine myself soaring high above the Welsh countryside. As I flew, the wind blew gently across the top of my feathered wings, and as I glanced below, I could see Miss Peregrine and her children standing on the lawn. Soon I was unable to tell that I had created the illusion within my own mind.

My feet began to tingle, and I wriggled my toes inside of my lace-up boots to make sure that they just weren't falling asleep. My body felt as If it was swaying back and forth. I began to feel vibrations from my core.

Beside me, Miss Peregrine was chewing her knuckle.

My concentration got so intense that I swore I could feel myself sprout wings and obtain feathers.

"That's enough, Miss Stonington!" She barked worriedly.

Everything seemed to stop. When I opened my eyes, I found myself on the ground on my hands and knees. Confused, I looked at Miss Peregrine.

"As I said, you were to fail your first attempt."

She helped me up and led me to the nearest seat. She made me sit. "I would like you to be careful, Miss Stonington, for metamorphosis of the human body is rather challenging. It is also likely to drain you of your energy. Tell me, how do you feel?"

I raised my trembling palms. "Light-headed," I replied.

"That's normal. Allow me to go and mix you an elixir that will restore your lost stamina," she said softly yet seriously as she limped from the room. She kind of sounded like something off of an old video game.

I sat with my head between my knees the while she was gone. The house was silent- the children must have been off playing on the second floor somewhere. It was so quiet that I could hear Miss Peregrine whistle in the other room as she mixed something. I heard the sound of two glass bottles touching and the sound of her boots as she walked around the kitchen. My head began to pulse and, even with my eyes shut, I began to feel dizzy. When she reappeared through the double doors that led into the hallway, carrying a green bottle, I felt like I should have been on the floor.

"Take it slow, Miss Stonington." She placed the bottle in my hand. "Sip this gingerly; I can't have you getting sick."

Slowly but surely, I raised the bottle to my lips and began to sip. Whatever she had mixed in it, it tasted like coconut and some type of old-fashioned spice. It was utterly disgusting. However, I felt the changes it made to my condition almost instantly. The pulsating in my head stopped. My vision returned to normal and I began to feel fine again.

"I'm afraid that once you do manage to change forms, your reaction will be much worse than this," she pointed out. "In fact, I will have to have quite the group of elixirs ready, in case any nonsense was to happen."

I pulled myself up and sat up as straight as I could. "Like what, if I may ask." I sipped the elixir again.

"Well, at Miss Avocet's academy, I was attending lessons with none other than Miss Wren- what a remarkable woman! When the time arose to assume our forms for the first time, Miss Wren had done it so quickly, that she could not change back. Miss Avocet, luckily, had just the right amount of concoction present to save her."

"Have you ever gotten stuck, Headmistress?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No. But, things can always happen."

I was glad that my lessons weren't over yet, for Miss Peregrine decided that lecturing me on how an ymbryne carried herself was more useful at this very time than trying to call-out my inner bird. She covered many different topics in almost an hour. First it was ymbryne etiquette- which she said was rather almost perfect. She then began to touch on children and how to properly care for them. Apparently that there were no peculiar children in loops under the age of six. It was too much a fuss to have to change diapers and bottle-feed young peculiars, I guessed. She battered on about how to cook properly and to make sure that meals were always served at the same time every day- except for the few excuses like that day we had gone to the beach.

Miss Peregrine also began to teach me how to properly use the ymbryne language. Even in human-form, the ymbrynes could communicate to one another using various bird noises such as cooing and even makeshift squawking. Hearing Miss Peregrine squawk made her really seem like The Bird- that was rude of me to think!

Miss Peregrine became tired soon after that, and she sent me to bed. She had said that we'd continue tomorrow.

I climbed the staircase only to find Emma suspended upside-down from one of the rafters. She was hanging by her legs, her arms held out. For a moment there I thought she was either dead or paralyzed but she answered my questions with a very girlish giggle.

"You are truly peculiar, Miss Bloom," I stated.

She giggled again. She reached up, grabbed the rafter, and flung herself. She did a mid-air flip and landed on her feet. I thought that was a trick that only Olive could perform. Emma then smoothed the front of her dress and came over to me.

"You've been spending a lot of time with the Bird," she said. "Tell me, what goes on?"

I stood, frozen. Miss Peregrine had asked me to keep my secret well, secret. I knew that she'd tell the others. Somewhere down the hall, one of the rooms was being used as a play land because I heard all of the children screaming and laughing. It sounded like they were jumping on the beds. I remained silent.

Emma nudged me. "Come on, Minnette!" she cheered. "The Bird must know something good about you. She doesn't get attached to someone _this_ quick."

Finally, her persistence irritated me, and I snapped.

"She's helping me find my peculiarity," I snapped.

Emma gasped. She knew that she had poked at me too much. She placed her hand to her mouth. "I am sorry, that was rude of me," she said.

I shook my head. "It's all right." A loud crash came from the bedroom where the children were. "What's going on in there?"

Emma smiled. "They're playing." She then grabbed me by the arm and began to run with me down the hall. She threw open the door and what I saw was both crazy, yet hilarious at the same time.

All of the children were grouped up inside the second library. They all had things in their hands, baseball bats, Olive had a stick, Horace had a book, and Jacob had a slingshot. They were all shouting derogatory remarks. There, perched on top of the tallest bookshelf was Claire. She was clad in a black dress that was so big on her that the neckline sagged down to her chest almost. She was crouched in a position that reminded me of a frog. She began to laugh and between laughs, would make a "Caw!" noise. Her back mouth began to screech.

"Caw! Caw! Caw!" yelled Claire. "You are all a bunch of scum!" She spread her arms and began to flap them as if they were wings. There was a black hat on the shelf with her. She threw it on her head with attitude, then, plopped down so she was sitting, her legs dangling. She then reached into her pocket and pulled out a pipe. She pretended to smoke it.

"Surrender, Peregrine!" hissed Enoch. In his hand he had a wooden sword and he thrust it upward.

Oh! I got it! Claire was pretending to be Miss Peregrine and the children were pretending to be Wights. It was a childish reenactment of when Miss Peregrine had been kidnapped the other day.

"This is their way of coping, you know," said Emma softly as she leaned her back against the door frame. "I find it offensive to the Bird so I never participate."

I nodded. It was kind of offensive. I wondered if Miss Peregrine knew they played such games.

"Never!" screeched Claire. She took another fake puff of her pipe. She then pounded a fist into the bookshelf.

"Lads!" shouted Horace. He was playing the leader. "Our prey believes she is some manner of game bird! Shall we teach her to fly?"

All of the children raised their "weapons" and began to sound a battle cry.

"You are nothing but a load of codswallop!" Claire yelled. She smacked the shelf again. She then dropped her pipe and made her hands into claw-like figures. "Come forth, I dare you! I shall claw your eyes out!" And with that, she made a screech similar to a falcon's. She quickly put her pipe in her mouth and bit it so it wouldn't escape her lips. She then brought out her claws again, and leaped from the bookshelf. Some of the children managed to get out of the way before she plopped right down on Bronwyn.

"I will NEVER let you harm my wards!" said Claire between her teeth as they clenched the pipe.

This was a rather impressive impression. Claire was almost spot-on. Of all the time I had been here, I had never seen them play this particular game.

Bronwyn began to laugh loudly as Claire began tickling her with her "claws." "You ninnies!" she hissed.

"WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?!"

We all jumped. Miss Peregrine was standing behind Emma and I and we never knew it. I slipped out of her way. She entered the room, fists clenched at her side. I saw her anger as she walked past me.

The children began to disperse, and Claire sat frozen on top of Bronwyn, the pipe still in her mouth. As Miss Peregrine towered over her, she half-grinned up at her, hoping to discourage the punishment that was about to come. Claire then spit out the pipe and it crashed to the floor.

"Children, what have I told you about playing on the furniture?" Miss Peregrine said through clenched teeth.

"We are not supposed to be doing it," replied Horace.

"That's right!" she barked. She then bent over and snatched the pipe. "And WHAT have I said about stealing my pipes?" She eyed Claire.

Claire lowered her head in shame. Such a great reenactment would probably never happen again. I felt pity for the children; it looked like loads of fun. But I was an ymbryne and I couldn't join in on such things, sadly.

"I'm sorry, Miss Peregrine," said Claire. "But how was I supposed to portray you realistically without a pipe?" she asked, a brow lifted.

Miss Peregrine raised her head, closed her eyes, stuck her nose in the air and shook her head. "Portray? Perhaps mock! And, perhaps, too realistically a mock, at that." She pocketed the pipe and threw her hands outward. "To bed!" she hissed. "All of you!"

The children all moaned and began to disperse to each of their bedrooms. I stayed in the doorway, clutching to the wall. I could indeed understand- nor blame-the children for playing so stridently, after all, we have been cooped up in the house for three days now. Claire and Bronwyn arose and began to sulk out the door. Miss Peregrine turned to me.

"You to, Miss Stonington," she said stiffly.

"Yes, Headmistress," I replied as I left her.

Although I had not partaken in the event, I guess that acknowledging it was just as bad in Miss Peregrine's book.


	15. The First Time

I spent most of the night in my nightgown, sitting in a chair on the balcony, shuffling through pictures and placing them in an empty album Miss Peregrine had given me. It was always warm at night and I enjoyed the tranquility of being alone while the house was completely silent. Eventually I must have drifted off because I awoke some hours later in the morning and I was still sitting there, photos on my lap.

I awoke to the sound of someone slamming a door down the hall. I jerked awake and spilled the photographs all over the balcony. I cursed and slid down on my knees to collect them.

After slipping into Miss Peregrine's old gown, I descended the stairs into the house to find it utterly quiet. The clock in the hall read10.A.M. I slowly made my way around the first floor to search for everyone. I finally found them in the classroom at the back of the house. I stood, peeping around the corner through the doorway. The children all sat at desks, blank open books in front of them as they scrawled in them with fountain pens. Miss Peregrine sat at a big mahogany desk at the front of the room, her nose buried in a novel. It was completely silent except for the children's scrawling. I tiptoed away before anyone noticed me.

Considering that I had missed breakfast, I made my way to the kitchen and made myself a cup of tea. Such was all right, I wasn't hungry anyway. I then advanced into the sitting room and sat in a chair. I set my tea on the end table and allowed my head to loll back against the soft chair.

I began to see things.

I saw an image of my family as they stood around the kitchen table back home. They were laughing at something my mother had said. On the table was a huge plate of pancakes and a pitcher of orange juice. It was like the perfect family breakfast back home only I was missing. No matter how hard I attempted I couldn't chase away the image and it made my stomach turn. Was this a dream? A reverie?

No, it was my reality.

My parents had never wanted me; that was no secret. I was odd, peculiar, whatever.

I was the unwanted child.

I couldn't help it when tears began to fill my eyes and run down my cheeks. I sniffled quietly. The facts that I was a Peculiar ymbryne and that I would be wanted and loved by a whole house of peculiar children someday made me smile. But I was still hurting inside for my biological side of me.

I curled myself in a tight ball within the chair and I wished so heavily for the thoughts to go away. They were haunting me.

_Freak! _

_Minnette is so weird! _

_Does her family even love her?_

I heard the voices of my cruel classmates. Years and years of being called horrible names really can screw with your mind, believe me. They kept getting louder, those voices. I tucked my head under my arms and dug my face harder into the chair. I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream bloody murder.

But I wouldn't. I wouldn't disturb Miss Peregrine. None of this was her fault.

I did, however, cry out into the fabric of the chair upholstery.

Soon, without doubt, I began to scream like a bird again. Only this time, I couldn't stop. Everything inside me was complaining in the form of a bird. I lifted my head from the chair and began to squawk. I was losing control of my body again.

Just then, the sound of thunder began to boom all around the house.

Miss Peregrine rushed into the room. The children ran behind her.

By this time, I was on the floor squawking like no tomorrow. My arms began to feel light.

Miss Peregrine reached down and grasped my wrists. "Miss Stonington!" she cried. "What is the matter?"

"What's wrong with her, Miss P?" asked Claire.

She let go of me and I began to shake.

"Children! Run along! I need some private time with Miss Stonington!" she hissed. The children took no time escaping the room.

Miss Peregrine kneeled beside me and grasped my wrists again. "Miss Stonington?" she asked. "Miss Stonington!"

I couldn't break from whatever was alimenting me. Miss Peregrine began to coo like a pigeon and held to me tightly. In a matter of moments I had stopped convulsing and I was hyperventilating. I felt my body become mine again and I stopped wrestling her tight grasp. Man, could Miss Peregrine hold tight.

She released me and began to pant a little. "My, Miss Stonington," she said when she could catch her breath. "You are closer than we think. For a moment there I expected you to sprout wings and fly." She huffed a few more times and smiled at me. "Perhaps we should continue the calling-out of your inner bird after supper."

"That was painful," I reported.

"Yes. It will be for the first few times."

I rose to my feet and offered a hand to her. She took it and hoisted herself up. "My, you're a fighter!" she said.

I pressed my hands to my temples. "My apologies. I am usually not so strident about things."

She smiled. "Why apologize? This comes natural to young ladies in your condition," she assured me.

"I interrupted your lesson," I explained. I, actually, felt like a piece of trash for allowing myself to be taken like I had.

"It's quite all right," she replied.

Just then, a nearby table shook and a vase fell to the floor and smashed. Miss Peregrine hardened her expression. I then saw her eyes enlarge as she faced it.

"Mr. Nullings!" she hissed. "It is rude to eavesdrop!"

The next thing I saw was the doors to the sitting room swing open, followed by the sound of footsteps.

Miss Peregrine put her hands to her forehead and plopped backwards into the chair I had just been crying in. "I wonder how much he heard," she hissed to herself. "Surely he will inform the others of what he just experienced." I stood silent as Miss Peregrine began to have an almost full-blown conversation with herself. She pressed a palm to her forehead and put pressure on it. "How could you be so ignorant, Alma?" she asked herself.

I guess that mothering-over a bunch of peculiar children and doing the same things day-by-day really took its toll on an ymbryne- no wonder Miss Peregrine had been so ecstatic when I had first come along, she had something new and interesting in her life.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she insisted upon herself.

As wonderful as she was, seeing her insulting herself stirred something within me.

I stomped my foot. "Alma LeFay Peregrine, you are _not_ stupid! What utter wish-wash!" I quickly gasped and covered my mouth with my hands.

Miss Peregrine froze; a grave look in her eyes. Now, I had done it.

"You are going to make a fine ymbryne," she finally said. "Self-put-downs are not amongst your beliefs. Good for you."

Surprised at her praise, I lowered my hands slowly.

"Will Millard tell about me?" I asked.

"Hmmm. Perhaps. I must be prepared when the children come asking," she said. "And they will indeed come asking."

What would the children do if they found out? How would they react when they found out that I would one day have to leave Miss Peregrine's loop to educate myself and-one day- begin my own loop. I knew immediately that Claire and Bronwyn- and perhaps Emma- would be utterly upset. I wondered just how upset Miss Peregrine would be.

"I could punish the boy, but if he's going to inform them, then he has already done so. Punishing him would be for naught," said Miss Peregrine from her seat. "He has a bad habit of doing these things." She sounded disgusted. "He did this, too, when I was speaking to Jacob about his grandfather."

I knew everything about Jacob and his grandfather, Abraham Portman, Emma had told me. However, she did not mention that she had sent Millard to do her snooping for her.

"Headmistress," I said.

"Yes?"

"Would you mind if I went and rested for a while before supper? I'm afraid that my episode has left me woozy."

"Of course," she replied, making no attempt to move from her seat.

My bed felt so nice. I had not gotten any decent sleep last night, and I was comforted by the soft mattress and the fluffy comforter as soon as I bundled myself in it. Within minutes I was fast asleep. The wholeness of the bed seemed to encase me in this warm place that I did not ever want to leave.

I had no dream throughout my entire slumber. I awoke in the late afternoon, when the clock told me that it was quarter to five pm. I felt kind of on the chilly side when I whipped my blankets off of me. I stretched whatever needed to be stretched and I headed down for the dining room.

As I neared the dining room doorway, I heard Miss Peregrine talking to the children.

"Is Minnette sick?" asked Claire.

"No, she is not."

"Is she going to die, Headmistress?" asked Olive.

"No, Miss Elephanta," replied Miss Peregrine. "Miss Stonington does not feel her best these days," she explained.

I stepped into the room to find twelve pairs of eyes on me. Miss Peregrine winked at me. She clapped her hands together. "Well, now that's sorted out, let's eat!"

After supper, Miss Peregrine ordered that all the children took turns bathing, and the ones who had bathed recently had to read a chapter in a textbook she provided with them. She had asked me to meet her at the end of the terrace, towards her greenhouse. Before heading out to meet her, I grabbed two things from my room, my box of Marlboros and my camera. I hadn't been in the greenhouse but once, and it was almost time for the changeover. Tonight would be the night I managed to shoot the changeover, considering all of the children were busy.

I met Miss Peregrine on the outside of the greenhouse, towards the woods. She just stood, peering out into the trees. She had her pipe in her hand; she puffed it as I walked down the lawn towards her. As I neared her, the smell of her pipe smelled wonderful to me. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a Marlboro and lit it with a match. For some odd reason, I had thought that lighters wouldn't work in this world.

Puffing my cigarette, I stepped to my headmistress' side. She turned her head just as I puffed my cigarette.

"My! Miss Stonington," she barked in awe when she saw me smoking my cigarette. She looked at her pipe guiltily. "I have not influenced you, have I?" she asked.

I shook my head, exhaling smoke. "Nonsense, Headmistress. I have been smoking since I was thirteen years-of-age." I raised my cigarette again.

"It's a bad habit," she said plainly as he took a puff from her pipe. I think that she knew that no matter what she said about my smoking habit, she couldn't do anything because she herself was a smoker. She said nothing else.

We finished smoking in silence and soon I was putting out my cigarette with my boot. I picked the butt out of the grass and held it up. "I cannot allow the children to find this," I told Miss Peregrine. "Especially Mr. Portman." I threw it as hard as I could into the woods. She then put out her pipe.

"Now, Miss Stonington. I believe that you are ready to turn for the first time," she said. "You are advancing well." She then began to fiddle with the buttons on her collar. "Miss Avocet will be very impressed when she gets the chance to meet you," she added.

"I'm ready for what you think I'm ready for, Headmistress," I replied.

"Assume the position we reviewed yesterday," she instructed.

I held out my arms, spread my feet and closed my eyes. I felt Miss Peregrine's hands adjust my posture.

"Good. Now, in order to get the feeling of things, I would like you to call out, as you did to me in the forest."

I nodded slightly. I trusted Miss Peregrine and I hoped that this would prove fine and dandy in the end. I had been excited to know what species of bird I was for many days now. I took a deep breath, and tried a call. It came out raspy. Miss Peregrine urged me to try again. I did. It sounded a tad better.

"Come, now, Miss Stonington. I _know_ you can perform better than _that_." She was urging me into the convulsions I had had earlier that morning. I had just re-built my strength by my napping and I didn't want to lose it again.

I drew in a deep breath and let out my loudest call. It worked!

"Excellent," soothed Miss Peregrine. "Now again."

I repeated myself.

"Again!" she urged.

As I drew in to begin the call, I felt my whole body go. I was weightless, almost-feathery like. But I wasn't a bird yet, I could still wriggle my fingers! Even though they were shielded behind my eyelids, my eyes began to sting. Like before, my head began to pulsate like a drum beat. I focused as hard as I could as I let out another call.

Miss Peregrine was becoming anxious. "Keep on it, Miss Stonington!" she sang. "You're almost there!"

I began to feel the vibrations in my chest, which spread rapidly to every cell in my body. I felt a small breeze brush my hair from my shoulders. I inhaled again and just as I went to release another call, I felt my whole body go numb. I had lost it into what Miss Peregrine had called the "Inner-ymbryne vibrations." These would help make my transformation smooth.

Then, suddenly, everything felt different.

I went to move my arms to discover that they had gained weight. My feet felt stretched to the max. I felt myself in a warm casing of something soft.

I opened my eyes to utter blackness.

CAW! CAW! I sounded my bird call and began to twitch.

I slowly opened my eyes to a much brighter, bigger field of view to them. Peering to my side, I saw that my arms had been replaced by two, long, slender black wings. My feet were small and stick-like with sharp talons. When I opened my mouth to cry out to Miss Peregrine, a bird call escaped me.

I was a bird!

I felt two hands come around my small body, and scoop me up. The next thing I knew, I was looking at Miss Peregrine from her palms.

"Oh, Miss Stonington!" she said in human. "What a lovely _raven_ you make!"

Raven? I was a Raven? I had been reading Edgar Allen Poe the day I had received Miss Peregrine's letter. How odd this all was.

I lifted my beak to coo at her.

"_Well, this is quite different," _I said in bird to Miss Peregrine.

She giggled, and pursed her lips and began to coo. _"It'll take some getting used to. Oh, Minnette! I'm so proud of you!"_

Miss Peregrine brought me close to her eyes so she could examine me. I saw my reflection in her glasses. Indeed I was a raven, and a shiny one, at that. I snuggled up my feathers and shook. I made a sound that sounded like a bird's version of purring and I rubbed my head on Miss Peregrine's cheek. I cooed.

"_Does this mean that I can be addressed as Miss Raven, now?" _I asked.

Miss Peregrine smiled and nodded. _"As soon as I figure out a way to tell the children." _


	16. Miss Peregrine Missing

Getting me back into human form was nothing for Miss Peregrine. She had picked my dress off the ground and carried me into the house; I was snuggled to her chest. She managed to sneak me into the drawing room without catching unwanted attention from the children. Once in there, she had begun to speak the ymbryne language and before I had known it, I was lying on the drawing room floor wrapped in a sheet. Being nude was nothing; I knew it was going to happen. Miss Peregrine was extremely pleased with my progress and had informed me that we would begin flight lessons in a matter of days. Changing back had made me feel woozy again, so, she had sent me off to bed for the night.

As I turned to leave the drawing room, Miss Peregrine stopped me.

"Miss Stonington," she said, keeping my now old name in case any of the children were near. I turned to her just in time as she advanced on me, reached behind my head, and pulled a long black feather from my hair. "You must remember to check yourself for feather sheddings before you head out into the world all willy-nilly. It is a good way to be recognized by Wights and such."

I thanked her in the fanciest way I could and bade her goodnight before heading to the second floor. By this time the children were in bed and I had hardly a chance of being seen naked in a bed sheet.

Once in my favorite black nightgown I tossed myself onto my bed and laughed.

"Miss Raven," I said to myself.

I sighed. "Miss Minnette Raven." It had a certain ring to it that bordered on fancy, and yet, so peculiar.

That would explain my love of black.

I fell asleep that night dreaming of what the life of an adult ymbryne was like. I saw myself striding around the front hall of a big home, like Miss Peregrine's. I was older, my features faded a bit. I wore my hair pinned to my head and was clad in a black gown. The scene then changed into the setting of a dining room, where I stood instructing a group of unrecognizable children. Next was the illusion of my raven form soaring high above the clouds. Then I was scribing a letter with a fountain pen. On the top I addressed it:

_Miss Alma LeFay Peregrine_

_Cairnholm Island, Cymru_

_September 3__rd__, 1940_

I awoke then. Suddenly, like someone had jerked me awake. In my dream I had been writing a letter to Miss Peregrine, such was odd to me. Undetermined to find out, I lolled out of bed and headed to the washroom to freshen up. I took a bath and dressed myself.

Downstairs on the first floor, I ran into the children as they were all peering out of the big bay window in the front sitting room. They were all huddled together and whispering things I couldn't understand. Odd thing was that they were all still in their night clothes.

"What is it, children?" I asked. I felt like face-palming. I was starting to sound like the headmistress.

They all faced my quickly. Half of them had appeared as if they had been crying, the other half was biting their lips nervously. I looked at them questioningly.

"It's Miss Peregrine," said Olive.

"What's the matter with her?" I asked.

Jacob faced me. "We were all sleeping, the next thing we knew, we heard screams and loud noises. We ran down here to check things out and Miss Peregrine assured us that everything was 'all right'. She went outside to circle the perimeter. It's been over half-an-hour!" he exclaimed.

I gasped. "She went alone?" My eyes were as big as my stomach.

Emma nodded. "She's out of sight and we're too terrified to go out there."

Claire ran to me and grabbed hold of my dress. "Not without you, Minnette," she sobbed. I hugged her to me.

"Did she fly?" I asked.

"No. She walked," replied Millard, who I just realized was standing beside me. "And she left this," he said, holding up her pipe.

Now, if I remembered correctly, Miss Peregrine _always_ had her pipe in her pocket. If she had sensed danger, she wouldn't have taken it with her.

"Jacob? Can you sense any hollows around?" I asked.

Jacob began to stare out the window in concentration. He took a few deep breaths. "No," he finally replied. "And if they're there, they're too far from us for me to sense them."

Just then, we heard a loud crack of thunder.

At the noise, Claire buried her face into my skirt. She began to cry. It was the perfect time for something, with me just on the verge of ymbryne lessons. If something truly bad had happened to the headmistress, I had no idea what I would do. I held onto Claire tightly. The next thing I knew, I had Bronwyn and Olive with their arms wrapped around me. Bronwyn wasn't crying, but she was enjoying the comfort.

"What do you suggest?" asked Emma.

I sighed.

"We go after her!" said Enoch.

Horace grinned. "I'm always in for a good whopping of a hollow," he said proudly.

The children all began to cheer, except for the three that clung to me.

It then occurred to me that they day Miss Peregrine had been taken and we had saved her, at first there had been six hollows. During our match against the Wight in the forest, there had only been two. Feeling as ignorant as ever, I admitted to myself that four hollows were somewhere still out there. Sad part was that they probably had Miss Peregrine.

"Calm, children!" I hissed. Bronwyn, Claire and Olive released me. They all quieted.

The thunder rang again.

And again.

And again.

Fed up with things, I bolted for the front terrace with the children in tow. We stood at the edge of the lawn facing the wooded path. The children crowded around me. We stood silent for a few meager moments, when the noise rang out again.

Before anyone else realized what was producing the racket, Jacob and I knew automatically.

"It's a gun," he whispered under his breath.

A gun? No one on Cairnholm Island carried guns, especially not in 1940. The war had everyone so stirred up that everyone did what they could to avoid killing.

"Miss Peregrine!" cried Emma.

The children all began to cry, except for me and Jacob. He approached me.

"You have to do something, Minnette," said Jacob. He glanced at the rest of them. "They-we- need your help."

I nodded. I was an ymbryne, and helping other ymbrynes was a part of my responsibility. Jacob was right, these children did need me, almost as much as they needed him to sense enemies or as much as they needed Miss Peregrine to mother them. I just stood there, glancing from Jacob, to the children, to Miss Peregrine's house. This world was my lifelong fantasy, an impossible dream that had come true. I was somewhere where I belonged. A place where I was welcomed with open arms. A place where I could be myself without judgment. I stiffened my posture and began to think like Miss Peregrine would, like an ymbryne.

_The children are an ymbrynes number-one priority. Their welfare should be held higher than anyone else's. _It was something Miss Peregrine had said during one of my ymbryne lessons. I knew that if I was to go off and rescue Miss Peregrine, I had to make sure that her children were safe, first.

Tightening my shoulders and straightening my back, I held my nose in the air.

"Children," I said calmly.

Between sniffles and sobs they all gave me their attention.

"The time has come for me to step up to my true peculiar responsibilities." How odd did I sound? "I am to go off and rescue the headmistress in the time hence," I informed them.

"Miss Bloom, Miss Bruntley," I said to Emma and Bronwyn. They gave me their undivided attention. Perhaps the way I was imitating Miss Peregrine made them realize just how sure of myself I was. "I would ask you to please escort the young ones into the house and watch over them until my return."

Emma smiled slyly. "You sound like the Bird."

They seemed to catch on quick. The next thing I knew, Bronwyn was collecting the children in a group and wiping their teary eyes on her dress. I guess Millard never spilled the beans about me, after all.

"Mr. Portman?" I asked Jacob.

"Yes?" he asked politely. He truly wasn't like any of the young men back home in America.

"I bid you use your power to guard the wards," I said. "I could not bear it if something tragic were to happen to any of you," I explained, toning down the Miss Peregrine air I was beginning to obtain.

Before taking the children to the house, Bronwyn hugged me one last time. "Do be careful, Miss Stonington," she said, as if she would address Miss Peregrine. She then took Claire and Olive by the hands and headed toward the house, the rest in tow.

Jacob and Emma stayed behind.

"I would like to thank you to for all you've done for me," I said. "In case something bad is to happen to me, please, Emma, kiss those children for me."

She nodded.

"How are you going to find Miss Peregrine all by yourself?" Jacob asked me. "You can only walk so much."

The Island was big for just one person, but for a bird, it might not be so bad after all.

"Simple," I replied swiftly. "I shall fly."

Emma cocked her head and Jacob narrowed his eyes. The awkwardness hung in the air between the three of us.

"Is that what you can do?" Emma asked. "Are you another Olive?"

I shook my head and turned towards the woods. Like something you'd see in a cheesy movie I peered over my shoulder and said: "I'm an ymbryne."

They looked at one another in complete surprise. Their eyes fell on me. I could tell that Emma understood more than Jacob. She met his questioning gaze and said: "Haven't you ever listened to Miss Peregrine, Jacob? Ymbrynes are born, not made. We have to believe her."

Jacob swallowed hard. "You're a _bird_?"

"Indeed."

"Let's see, then!" Emma cheered.

Just like Miss Peregrine had shown me, I opened my arms and closed my eyes. I began to concentrate on a raven. Then, almost instantly, I felt myself shrink down. My arms turned into brilliant back wings and my mouth was a sharp beak. I gave a flap of my wings and cawed a couple of times. My dress laid on the ground in a black bundle.

"You are an ymbryne!" cheered Emma. She jumped for joy.

I screeched at her.

"Go! Fly to Miss Peregrine!" Emma said, throwing her arms up excitedly.

Then, with that, I gave my wings a few good flaps and began my first flight as a young ymbryne.


	17. When Push Comes to Shove

I took to the skies!

Flying wasn't that difficult, I got the hang of it quite easily. It was turning in mid-flight that I had issues with. As I went to turn, I must have been leaning onto my wing too hard, for my body would scoop toward the ground. I would quickly balance myself and let the turbulence carry me swiftly over the welsh countryside. I had no idea where to begin looking for Miss Peregrine. The gun had sounded a few times to my northwest, so, leaning slightly onto my left wing, I headed in that general direction.

As I flew, I let out many screeches and caws. Miss Peregrine had to hear me!

I kept decently low, but not so low that I couldn't pull up and ascend quickly if need be. The sun was almost directly above me; it was around eleven am. The treetops began to open into small fields, I was on the complete opposite side of the island as Miss Peregrine's house. I took it to be at least twenty miles away. It was a distance that could be taken by car easily in under forty-five minutes, but it would take two days to walk, and an hour and a half by flight, considering there was no issues such as low clouds or planes to avoid.

I counted many little fields. In a few of them I saw farmers plowing with steel horse-drawn plows. I would have been having the time of my life I wasn't so worried for my headmistress' life.

I circled the groups of fields quite a few times with no leads. I was practically about to give up before my wings got too tired. I swooped lower so I could get a better look.

I began to hear a bunch of human voices. It was followed by a falcons call.

Miss Peregrine!

I stuck close to one of the bigger fields. I noticed a group of humans- or Wights, have you- begin to march across the unplowed soil. The falcons scream was coming from this group of particular people. Deciding to risk things, I swooped as low as I could without getting noticed. It was then I saw her.

Miss Peregrine was in her human form. She was surrounded by I would say twenty or more men. She had her hands bound behind her by a piece of rope and two men each had an arm of hers, leading her way. Keeping her air about her, she obediently followed. She sounded her falcon call again.

I answered her.

When she heard me answer, she wriggled free enough so she could look up and see me. Happily she answered me again.

No one bothered to look up at me. They probably thought that Miss Peregrine was crazy. But she indeed was not. Swooping a little lower, I felt my stomach drop when I saw one of the men jerk on her in a cruel fashion. I wasn't close enough to hear what he said to her, but I heard Miss Peregrine cry out when he did it. She then began to fight. I swooped even closer.

A man raised his hand and it ripped across Miss Peregrine's face. She cried out again and fell on the ground. He had hit her so hard that her hairpins fell out and her hair was down.

"Get up, wench," hissed the man.

She couldn't struggle to her feet because of the rope that bound her wrists. "How dare you!" she cried. She was in a mixture of fright and anger.

The man raised his hand to strike her again.

Angrily, I flung my body downwards and into a perfect falcon-dive, although I was a raven, I had talons and I was determined to use them. Screaming as loud as my beak would open, when I neared the man, I flung myself backwards and bore my talons. In one swift move, I latched onto the back of the man's neck with them. He shouted in pain.

"_You leave my Headmistress alone, you monster!"_

I put my beak to good use, as well. As hard as I could, I began to jab him on top of his skull. He raised his arms to grab me. He got his hands around me and grasped me. Before he had time to throw me off him, I pecked his ear so hard that my beak went straight through the cartilage.

With all of his might, he flung me upwards.

No problem.

I opened my wings and ascended up for whoever in the bunch was deserving of my second dive-attack. I wasn't nearly as stalky as Miss Peregrine was in falcon form, but I was quick on my wings.

"_I will rescue you, Miss Peregrine," _I said, hoping that somehow she could hear me.

Next came the gunshots. The man at the front of the group was the only one with a gun. He raised it and sent rifle ammo hurdling towards me. One almost hit me and I swooped so hard to avoid it that I tumbled right over myself. Miss Peregrine screamed in terror when that happened.

It was too risky. I had to hide until I could get them in the woods, I then would have the home advantage. Trees to perch in. Sadly, I left the pack of humans and flew ahead of them, only to drop down into a tree somewhere.

I didn't know if birds could cry, but I sure was.

I perched in a tree and fooled with my tail feathers for a while until I could figure out just how to go about this. I looked around wearily, I was safe, under the cover of a pine tree branch. When I heard the group approaching, I flew up to a high branch.

By this time it was well after two in the afternoon.

I began to fly from tree-to-tree as I wove through the forest after them.

I followed the humans until well after dark, when they decided to camp.

They were Wight's, all of them. And the leader, the one with the gun, whose name I learned was Caul, was Miss Peregrine's own brother!

They made a decent sized fire pit and made Miss Peregrine sit on a hard log.

Caul was seated on the ground next to a younger Wight. Caul was drinking a flask of wine and he passed it between his men. They laughed at cruel jokes that he made against Miss Peregrine, his own sister! One joke absolutely disgusted me.

"Tell me, Alma," Caul cooed at his sister. "How long did you have to sit on your children before they hatched?" His ignorance was followed by the laughing of his men.

Miss Peregrine refused to speak one single word. She did however ask him a question. "What do you plan on doing with me, Caul?" she hissed.

"I'm taking you to a place where they'll stick sharp pins in you," he replied drunkly. "A place where birds are on the menu every night of the week!" he laughed.

Miss Peregrine sighed. "You've been led astray, brother," she said. "And I pity you."

"YOU pity ME?" he laughed again and took a swig of wine. "It is I who pity you. You were born with such great abilities. And you do what with them? You use them to babysit a bunch of snot-nosed brats who don't like you, anyway."

Miss Peregrine was highly offended. "I'll have you know that my wards value me highly," she replied.

Caul got up from his seat and began slowly walking toward her. "You're a liar!" he snapped. "What about Abraham Portman? He valued you so highly that he left your loop and refused to return. No wonder he was so easy to find. I enjoyed listening to Golan brag about killing him."

"You leave Abe out of this!" hissed Miss Peregrine.

He froze. "Tell me, Alma," he said. He reached a finger into her face and poked her in the nose. "How would you fancy if I were to go back for those peculiar brats of yours? Then bring them hear before you, and snap each one of their necks." He made his point to her by jabbing her in the face as he spoke.

"I...I-," Miss Peregrine was at a loss for words.

I scanned the camp quickly. Most of the men had left to the tents they had pitched. On a stump sat a kerosene lamp. I noticed that it sat quite close to the fire pit. Those ignorant bastards! All it would take was someone to bump it and it'd explode with the fire.

That gave me quite the idea.

"I love them," Miss Peregrine whispered.

"You what?"

"I LOVE THEM!" she snapped. I saw tears stream down her face in the light of the fire.

I was, again, on the verge of tears. Miss Peregrine not only took care of us because of duty, but because of her emotions as well. I had never seen Miss Peregrine cry and it stirred something vicious inside me. I tensed my wings.

Caul got in her face. She drew back at his bad breath. "You may love them, Alma. But you cannot protect them. Not for long. Not from us. In fact, I think that once I hand you over to the elders, I shall go back and round up those little buggars."

"No!" Miss Peregrine cried.

"Why are you being so stubborn, Alma? Your children could rule the world someday. Don't you want what's best for them?" he asked mockingly. This man was starting to bust my rump and cause me to get heated. I was waiting for the opportune moment to swoop in and save Miss Peregrine.

"Their place in this world is with me," she replied. "With someone who will always love and care for them."

Caul laughed lowly. He tossed his flask into the darkness and drew his pistol. He cocked it. "Well, you can't love if I simply remove you from existence," he joked. He put it to her face, his finger on the trigger. Miss Peregrine was so terrified that she closed her eyes tight and bit her lips. Her brother would kill her, I took it.

His finger began to tense more on the trigger.

I panicked. I spread my wings and screeched as loud as I possibly could. I dove from the tree and flew right into the kerosene lamp. It rocked on the stump a few times, then balanced on a corner, then fell into the fire pit. The reaction sent Caul down on his face and Miss Peregrine fell backwards, her feet in the air. I landed beside her.

"Minnette!" she cried.

I hopped to her, and lashed at the rope with my talons. They weren't quite sharp enough to unbind her with one swing, so I kept at it. Finally the rope snapped and she wriggled free. Behind us, all of the men exited their tents. As Miss Peregrine regained herself, I turn to make sure that no one dared get too close to her, my talons ready. But before long, I heard a falcon scream.

Miss Peregrine shrunk down out of her dress and began to fly toward the west.

I followed her, but before I took off, I swooped down and clutched her dress in between my talons and began to ascend behind her. Behind us, the Wights camp caught aflame and began to burn to the ground.


	18. Becoming the Caretaker

"_Did he hurt you?" _I asked Miss Peregrine as we flew.

"_Nonsense," _she replied. _"I'm just a little shaken." _

It was dark and it was hard to fly. I kept right on Miss Peregrine as she wove through the trees. Somewhere back I could hear the men as they grouped together. They would come after us; that I knew. I didn't know how much time we had before they caught up. What advantage Miss Peregrine and I had would be at a loss if the men decided to sprint after us.

We flew for a bit and Miss Peregrine's dress grew heavy in my grasp. She insisted to know why I had bothered to bring it. I told her that she'd be needing it. I had to admit, after being abducted, smacked, bound and had a gun put to her face, Miss Peregrine was in quite the phenomenal mood. She flew with a will, showing no signs of pure terror, but of anger. I think she knew that they'd come after us, or worse, hunt down the children.

"_Will they go after the children?" _I asked.

"_They have to find them first. When I knew it was Wights that were about I misled them away from the homestead,"_ she explained.

We flew for what seemed like hours, but was only about thirty minutes or so. I noticed that Miss Peregrine's flapping became labored.

"_I'm much too tired to fly a distance like that,"_ she finally said. _"Let us land and rest ourselves."_

Miss Peregrine swooped down and found a decently tall tree. She landed with ease. I dropped her dress at the base of the tree and landed beside her. The moon was bright enough that trees could be made out in our vision. Had we been real birds, we'd be snuggled up in our nests for the night. But we were not real birds, we were ymbrynes and we had to deal with what we had. Miss Peregrine must have been cd because she fluffed up her feathers so she looked like a poofy ball of fray fur rather than a feathered bird. I cooed at her, not particularly saying anything. She cooed back then went back to snuggling up in her feathers.

Off in the distance, I saw five yellow spots through the trees. I couldn't tell what it was, in truth, I thought it was the spotlight from the lighthouse. I stayed close to Miss Peregrine as I could without being too touchy- feely. I was there for a sense of comfort and protection. I didn't want to make my departure to attend Miss Avocet's school any harder that it would be by being too involved now. Miss Peregrine was more of a mentor to me than a headmistress, and soon, she'd be a friend. Just a friend, and she would probably act as if we had never spent so much time together. I did know that if I ever had any trouble with my children in the future, I could always call upon her for guidance, though.

I began to hear the group of men shouting through the trees. I recognized Caul's voice but I couldn't quite make out what he was saying.

"_We must go," _ I suggested to Miss Peregrine.

She sighed. _"I am tired." _It wasn't a statement, it was fact. She was tired.

I stepped over to her and began to rub my head on her. I was hoping that a little stimulation would arouse her enough so we could flee. She did nothing but sit there. She made no attempt to move. I saw the look in her eyes and knew what was wrong.

She was thinking.

About what, I did not know. I could only speak to her, not read her mind.

They began to appear in sight. The yellow dots were torches they held high above their heads.

"_We shall split up our alliance for a few moments," _said Miss Peregrine finally. She straightened herself and turned her head toward me. _"We must both avoid that weapon of his." _

I agreed. I did not answer though.

"_On my squawk, we shall both fly in different directions. We shall rendezvous a mile ahead. Do I make myself clear?" _

"_Yes, Miss Peregrine."_

"_Good. Now, wait for my signal."_

She inched farther down the branch from me, so when she sounded the signal, we could both swoop down and split up. As they emerged from the trees, I could see the metal of Caul's gun glisten in the light of the torch he held.

"Here birdie, birdie, birdie," he called. He then began to whistle like an idiot. As he neared the trunk of our tree, he noticed Miss Peregrine's dress at the bottom. As he bent down to examine it, Miss Peregrine screamed.

And we were off!

I threw myself down toward the ground. I curved around Caul and grabbed Miss Peregrine's dress with my talons. They were so close to his face that he gasped and fell backwards. I laughed to myself as Miss Peregrine began to circle one another. From the ground, Caul became enraged, he cocked his pistol and began to shoot blanks. Realizing that he forgot to refill the chamber he thrust the torch at the nearest man and began shoving in the bullets.

Miss Peregrine screamed again. I did the same as we began to inter-twine our flight paths. Miss Peregrine was the master of illusions- for her loop was nothing but a grand illusion. And this was one illusion that the men couldn't follow. As Caul got straightened to take a shot, we made one last loop and broke away from one another. I was flying so fast that my wings felt numb as they glided through the air.

I began to head west, toward the house, and she east. We'd fly until we lost the men and meet somewhere along the way.

Gripping tightly to Miss Peregrine's dress, I began to ascend high above the trees. I was black, anyway, and the darkness would conceal me enough to escape.

Caul began to fire shots again.

One shot.

My wings made a whistling noise as I flew.

Two shots.

I trusted that Miss Peregrine could take care of herself.

Three shots.

I began to wonder if the children were safe.

Four shots.

It truly didn't matter, for Miss Peregrine and I were on our way to protect them.

Five shots.

In truth, I was so tired from flying all day that my wings were numb from exhaustion.

The sixth shot rang out, sounded by the most blood-curdling noise I had ever heard in my life. It was worse that nails on a chalkboard. Unable to figure out what it was at first, I turned myself around.

There, off to the distance, was a gray speck hurdling toward the ground uncontrollably.

Miss Peregrine!

I began to flap my wings as hard as I could. I flew right past the men, as they continued in my direction. I scanned the ground until I could see the same gray speck lying upon the ground. Instead of bothering to gradually make my way toward the surface, I dipped my wings down, and headed head-first for the vicinity. When close to the ground, I released Miss Peregrine's dress.

I had to change back.

It was the only coverage I had. So, as the dress began to sail toward the ground, I flew into it.

I landed on my hands and knees in a hard fashion. It was a hard fall. I sat still for a moment as I got used to being a homo sapien again, and I took many deep breaths. Miss Peregrine's dress felt odd to me. Quickly I buttoned up the collar and crawled to her side. She greeted me with a quiet and labored coo.

She lay on her back, wings sprawled, her chest covered in fresh blood.

That bastard had shot Miss Peregrine! His own sister.

"Miss Peregrine?" I asked.

She was in too much pain to answer.

Tears filled my eyes. No! No! No! This was not fair! Miss Peregrine had done nothing to harm anyone in the world, and this is how fate repaid her. I knew that I had to get her back to the house for help. But she was much too heavy a falcon for me to carry in my bird-form. I would have to carry her on the same two legs I had been born with.

I knew some things about first aid. I needed something to wrap around her to stop the bleeding. Regrettably, I had nothing and had to rip a piece of material from the bottom of her dress.

"Miss Peregrine, I'm going to wrap this around you to stop the bleeding."

As much as it must have hurt her, she made no attempt to peck at me or do anything that would break my concentration. When I got her wrapped, I gently slid my hands underneath her and scooped her up. Being as careful as ever, I held her to my chest. My knees were weak when I stood up and I was beginning to feel lightheaded again. I had to keep myself going, no matter what. My headmistress was in fatal condition and I would stop at nothing to get her to safety.

I had no clue what could possibly happen to me, but I had to try. For my headmistress.

I began to walk in the direction of the house. I held tightly to Miss Peregrine as if I were a child and she my favorite toy. I had a protective hold on her and no one would make me break it.

I felt every breath of Miss Peregrine's as I walked along. I was as careful as I was as I walked not to trip over tree stumps. I had no shoes and the wet dirt felt disgusting on my bare feet. I could feel Miss Peregrine's dependency on me as I clung to her. She began to tremble.

I had walked for miles without stopping. I was so hungry that my stomach pained me and so thirsty that my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. My hair was matted and I was wearing a dress that did not belong to me. It was better than being naked, though. I trudged on without a complaint in my mind, though. For once someone depended on me heavily and I would not set myself up to fail.

After a few hours, I could see the house from a small hill I was on. I began to stroke Miss Peregrine with a finger.

"There's the house," I pointed out. "Hang in there, headmistress, we're almost home."

When I felt my feet touch the soft grass of the terrace, I began to feel relieved.

Instead of waiting for someone to come out and see if we were all right, I walked right into the house.

"Emma!" I screamed,. "Come quickly."

All of the children heard my shout and all came running into the room. I did not remove my hands from Miss Peregrine. They kept her well hidden.

Emma came rushing down the stairs. "Did you find her?" she demanded. She paused when she saw my appearance and my hands held around the bird.

All of the children began to whisper.

"Miss Peregrine is badly hurt, children," I explained. I faced Emma. "You've been here a hell of a lot longer than I have. What do you suggest?" I asked.

Emma began to stammer. "I will summon Miss Avocet," she said. "She lives over in London and it shouldn't take her long to arrive." She began to jog down the hallway. "Don't let go of her, Minnette," she said quickly. "Your ymbryne power will keep her alive until Miss Avocet arrives!"

The children, of course, began to ask questions. I calmly explained what had happened. As expected, they all began to cry and demand to know if she would live. I said that she would but she need rest. I asked Bronwyn to put them to bed. She agreed and began to usher them up to the second floor.

Before she made her way up, Claire walked up to me, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

"Can I see Miss Peregrine before I go to bed?" she asked between sobs.

My heartstrings began to feel broken. Claire was the youngest ward. She was special to me. I knelt down and, gingerly, removed Miss Peregrine from my chest. She cooed. Her breathing was still hard. She wiped her eyes again and took one good look into Miss Peregrine's black eyes. The, without saying anything, she leaned over and kissed Miss Peregrine on the head.

"I love you, Miss Peregrine," she sobbed as she slowly began to climb the stairs.

That alone was enough to make me shed tears. I held the bird to me again. I made my way into the drawing room and I set Miss Peregrine on the settee. She squealed in pain when I set her down.

"I'm sorry, Miss Peregrine!" I cried. "I did not mean it!"

She calmed herself again and rustled her feathers.

Emma came into the room.

"I sent a telegram to Miss Avocet. She should be here in a few hours," she said.

I began stroking Miss Peregrine's back with my fingers. "Pray she has that long," I replied softly. Tears were falling from me. Emma took a seat in the nearest chair.

"Jacob is helping Bronwyn calm the children for bed," she said. She sighed. "Who shot her?" she finally asked.

I sighed. "Her own brother. His name is Caul. He's a Wight."

Emma got up and went to the bookcase and began tracing the bindings of the photo albums with her finger. "Yes, I remember her mentioning that to us." Without seeing her facial expression I knew that she was upset about the headmistress just as much as the rest of us, perhaps even more. I could only imagine what she'd do to Caul if he ever showed up at the house. Burn his whole face off, most likely. "How many were there?" she asked.

"There had to be twenty," I pointed out.

She sighed. "Jacob won't miss a group that large. We must be ready for their arrival. They had Miss Peregrine once, they'll surely come back for her a second time." She began to pace. She took a good look at Miss Peregrine. "How foolish of you, Miss Peregrine!" she cried. "You had us all worried sick!" Miss Peregrine cooed a little. "You can't just go on and leave us like that. We _need_ you!" Emma opened her hands and went for Miss Peregrine.

Quickly I snatched her wrists. "No, Emma! Don't! You'll hurt her! She was only trying to prevent them from finding us and you know it!" I hissed.

Emma ripped from my grasp. "I'm going to go find Jacob," she hissed through clenched teeth.

She slammed the doors on her way out, stirring Miss Peregrine. I cooed at her and began to stroke her once more. She finally settled. I knew that such a long day had to have left her hungry. Thinking it would do her some good, I figured I'd venture into the kitchen and find something proper for a falcon to eat.

"_I shall return shorty, Headmistress," _I said softly.

She lifted her head. _"I'll be all right." _

That was all she could get out before she dropped her head and attempted to sleep.

In the kitchen I dug through various things in the old ice-box that served as an old-fashioned refrigerator. What I found handy was a few scraps of goose meat. Falcons were meat eaters, and I knew that if I pressed the subject on her, Miss Peregrine would nibble at it at least. I thought about water, too. I knew that she was much too weak to drink as birds drank. Luckily, I knew where she kept all of her cooking tools and whatnot. I found an old glass eyedropper and I filled a small container of water and carried it into the drawing room.

I carefully scooped her up, sat on the settee, and curled her in my lap.

I offered her a piece of meat. She turned her head.

"_Miss Peregrine, how do you expect to reclaim your strength if you will not eat?" _I asked her. It was more of an order than a question. If I had refused to eat, she'd be on my case about it.

She did not answer. She just blinked her eyes.

I kept offering it to her, but all she did was turn her head. Upset that she wouldn't eat, I reached for the eyedropper. I filled it with some water.

"_If you would like to presume being stubborn, that is fine. At least accept this water," _I said.

She opened her beak and I began to squeeze the water droplets into her mouth. She drank five eyedroppers full before she would not accept anymore. A little satisfied, I allowed her to go with just the water, though I was torn she wouldn't eat. I began to yawn. Figuring that I had a while before Miss Avocet arrived, and that it was nearly dawn, I held the bid to my chest as I retrieved a blanket that was draped over a chair. I lowered myself onto the settee gently, and set Miss Peregrine on my chest. I covered us both with the blanket, and with both hands encasing Miss Peregrine lightly, my head fell back and I was asleep.


	19. Enter Miss Avocet

I felt like I had been sleeping forever. I could feel Miss Peregrine breathe as I held to her, so I knew that I could rest easily. It wasn't very long before I felt someone tug on my dress. Quickly I snapped awake to find Emma standing over me.

"Minnette," she said.

"Yeah?" I asked, pulling my head up. I was careful not to wake the Headmistress.

"Miss Avocet has arrived. I suggest you straighten yourself." Emma took the blanket off me and threw it on the chair. I slowly arose from my spot. I held Miss Peregrine to me lightly, so as to not wake her.

Emma led a very prestigious-looking woman into the room. She was tall, with snow-white hair that was bound up in a hairstyle I did not recognize; not a hair out of place. Like Miss Peregrine, she was clad in black. She held her head high and walked in a fashion that read class and demanded that anyone under her power stand down. This was Miss Avocet, Miss Peregrine's former mentor- and would one day be mine. She was much older than Miss Peregrine, but looked rather healthy for her age.

She walked right up to me.

"You must be Miss Stonington," she said.

I nodded. "Yes, ma'am, that is I."

She looked me head-to-toe. I was so out of place at that very moment. I was in Miss Peregrine's dress, my hair matted and my face dirt-streaked. Had Emma told her I was an ymbryne? I was not in my most fetching state for a first impression. I could read her disappointment all over her face. She then noticed the falcon I coddled close to me.

"This is Alma?" she asked, pointing.

As much as I hated to give her up, I took Miss Peregrine from my chest and held her out. Her wings dropped out of my palms.

Miss Avocet took one good look at the bloody piece of dress I had tied around her. She gently took her from my hands and coddled her in her own. Placing one hand around her neck, and one underneath her tail, she held up to her face so she could examine her. Miss Peregrine remained asleep.

"Alma," she said.

Miss Peregrine's eyes came over and she squawked loudly; Miss Avocet had startled her. Once she recognized who was holding her, she began to coo.

Just as I had, Miss Avocet began to coo at Miss Peregrine. Emma stood by, amazed. I could understand the conversation that took place.

"_Esmeralda?"' _asked Miss Peregrine. _"Is it really you?"_

"_Oh, Alma! What catastrophe has been afflicted upon you! It was a good thing your ward summoned me." _With one finger Miss Avocet began to peel off Miss Peregrine's wrapping. Underneath was a matted mess of dried-bloody feathers. _"My, my, my have you taken quite the injury. How do you feel, Alma?" _

Miss Peregrine attempted to raise her wings, but to no success. They just dropped right back down. _"I'm weak, Esmeralda."_

Miss Avocet had no idea I was an ymbryne, I took it. She turned to me. "You've done an excellent job caring for your ymbryne, Miss Stonington, but she is in my care now. You may go."

Staying silent, I nodded my head and turned for the door. Emma looked at me worriedly. She mouthed the words "I didn't tell," to me. Miss Avocet truly didn't know what I was. I knew we could trust her but I felt awful leaving Miss Peregrine.

Miss Peregrine squawked and began to speak again.

"_I would like her present, Esmeralda, if you do not mind." _

I looked at Emma.

""What'd she say?" she whispered to me.

"She wants me to stay," I whispered back.

Miss Avocet looked at Miss Peregrine puzzled. _"Alma, are you certain?" _

"_I am certain." _

Emma nodded at me approvingly, then headed out of the room. I stood beside Miss Avocet.

"Your Miss Peregrine must find you special," said Miss Avocet. "She has requested that you stay on."

Then she handed Miss Peregrine to me as she began to remove her cloak and roll up her blouse sleeves. I held Miss Peregrine to me again and this time, knowing that help had arrived and that she'd be back to normal soon enough to badger me about it, I kissed the top of her head. She shook it like I had placed germs on her. She then reached up to my cheek, opened her beak a tad, and began to nibble me. Why, she was giving me bird kisses. I smiled. Truthfully, I didn't know that Miss Peregrine enjoyed embraces, kisses on the head or being held at all. As nice as she was, she hardly ever laid hands on any of us.

"Tell me, child," said Miss Avocet as she felt her hair to make sure that every strand was in place. "Where does Alma keep her elixirs and such?"

"_The closet in the kitchen," _replied Miss Peregrine.

I didn't have to say anything. Miss Avocet began to head for the kitchen. "Keep her warm for a while. And, I beg you, do not drop her! I shall only be a few minutes."

"_Is it any better, Headmistress?" _I asked her when Miss Avocet was well out of hearing range.

She tried to flap her wings. _" A tad."_

I lowered my head. _"I'm beginning to wonder if this is all my fault." _

"_Nonsense! I must say that you are the best thing that has been contributed to this loop in a long, long time." _ She stopped to catch her breath. Seeing Miss Avocet was enough to make her speak again. _"In fact, I am reconsidering sending you with Esmeralda."_

I thought of her albums of photos she had taken at the academy. I was more than sure that I'd be in the photo of the next young ymbrynes that learned under Miss Avocet.

"_But how am I to learn time-manipulation?"_

"_From me, of course." _ She paused again and took many deep breaths. _"Although, with my own wards underhand the council might deem me unworthy of mentoring you." _

Suddenly, Miss Peregrine became very lethargic and she began to huff many deep breaths. She had spoken too much and it had weakened her. I ordered her to stay quiet. To my surprise, she obeyed and just began to relax in my embrace. I slowly began to rock her and I softly recited a verse from Evanescence's My Immortal.

Soon Miss Avocet returned with a platter of different elixirs. She also had scrounged up a sewing needle, thread and a pot of boiling water.

"I am going to treat that wound before I set to do anything else," she informed me. She set the platter down and fed the thread through the needle. She then soaked it into the pot of water to sterilize it. "We've got to get that bullet out of you, Alma," she told Miss Peregrine.

Miss Peregrine squawked.

"Miss Stonington, I need you to hold her still."

Gingerly I wrapped my fingers around Miss Peregrine. She began to tremble. I cooed to her, telling her that I would not drop her. I was careful to make sure that Miss Avocet did not hear me speaking ymbryne. I set her on the settee but kept my hands over her wings. Miss Avocet knelt before her, needle in hand.

"Try not to peck me, Alma," she asked. "That beak of yours is mighty sharp."

She squawked again.

I held to my headmistress as Miss Avocet presumed to dig inside her wound with the needle. Once she got the needle under the bullet, she forced it out. Miss Peregrine tensed but made not a sound. She nestled her head against the back of my hand as I held her. It took Miss Avocet a few minutes to successfully remove the bullet from Miss Peregrine's body. Miss Avocet began then to go at her with the needle and thread. It was mighty painful because whenever Miss Avocet touched her with the needle she squirmed. She fought hard for such a weak bird but the result was quite impressive. Although she had wriggled so much, Miss Avocet's stitches were very neat.

Miss Avocet was pleased with herself. "I'm afraid that she is still too weak to change back, now." She wiped sweat off her forehead on her apron. "We must keep a close watch over her."

I tucked Miss Peregrine under the blanket once more and kissed her head again.

"Get some rest, Headmistress."

"You ought to wash yourself, dear," said Miss Avocet. She looked at my dress. "And take off Alma's dress."

"Yes, ma'am," I replied.

I soaked in the tub for a while. Knowing that Miss Peregrine was watching over someone of her own kind, I could relax. I was so filth-encrusted that by the time I exited the tub the water was brown. I slipped into a simple black dress and scrubbed the tub clean. I then picked up Miss Peregrine's dress and carried it into my room; I'd sew it. Afterward I checked on the children by silently pressing my ear on each and every one of their bedroom doors. All of them were fast asleep, even Emma. What an impact all of this must have had on them. If only there was a way to assure that the Wights had given up; they hadn't arrived yet.

Once back on the first floor, I made Miss Avocet and I each a cup of tea. She was very pleased when I gave it to her. She sipped it happily. I joined her in an empty seat and crossed my legs. Within thirty minutes, I began to see an improvement in Miss Peregrine. In fact, she picked up her head and squawked.

Miss Avocet studied her from her seat. "Alma, you must rest yourself." She sipped her tea again.

"Is she readying to change back, Miss Avocet?" I asked quietly.

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Although she appears to be strengthening, she is nowhere near ready."

I listened to her words carefully, Just the thought that Miss Peregrine would be ready to be human once again was exciting. And in such short time, too.

Miss Avocet looked at me with deep concern in her eyes. "It was Caul who did this, wasn't it?" she asked me.

I slowly nodded. It was true, Miss Peregrine's own brother- who was a Wight- had shot her. I remembered his crude, drunken demeanor and the way he had treated Miss Peregrine. The very thought of his cruelty towards her made my stomach twist. I was angry enough to kill him the next time I saw him.

Miss Avocet sighed. "Yes, he always was a troubled boy. He was constantly ranting on about how 'unfair' it was that Alma was produced with the talents she has." She sipped her tea again. "I always knew he'd grow to be trouble."

"He surrounded himself with at least twenty men," I informed her. "They were not hollows, though."

"Yes," she said knowingly. "Wights, no doubt."

All I could do was nod.


	20. Who I Am

It seemed like hours before anything really extrodinary happened. Miss Avocet and I did nothing but sip tea and talk about the war between peculiars and Wights. We jabbered on throughout the rest of the night until, eventually, we both ended up drifting off into sleep. I was so comfortable in the chair that sleep overtook me heavily. I was curled in a ball, a blanket thrown over me. I smelled of lavender soap and wet hair. The house fell completely silent for hours.

I was awaken in the morning by the sound of Miss Avocet. I sat up and stretched, the blanket that was on me tumbling to the floor. Miss Avocet sat on the settee, feeding Miss Peregrine drops of water with the eyedropper. The falcon looked much healthier than she had in previous hours. She did not look her absolute best, but she did look better.

"Ah, Miss Stonington!" said Miss Avocet. "You've awoken just in time to prepare breakfast for the rest of the wards."

I was puzzled. I thought that is what she came for. I would be her ward soon, so I decided to obey her. I rolled up my sleeves and headed for the kitchen. Once there, I found Jacob, Emma and Bronwyn all seated at the table. The other children must have been in bed still.

"I'm going to prepare breakfast," I told them.

"We wanted to know if we could help," said Bronwyn.

I smiled. "Absolutely!"

I put Emma to work mixing flapjack mixes. Jacob was making scrambled eggs. And Bronwyn was the one who was flipping the flapjacks. She laughed loudly as she flipped one too hard and it hit the ceiling before it flopped back down into her pan. We had found a phonograph in the other room and had it playing some old cheery music I had never heard. I danced around the kitchen to it, wearing Miss Peregrine's apron as I did. We weren't even done making breakfast when the record stopped.

"There's more in the library!" said Emma. I took it as a cue to go fetch some more.

I found a huge case of records and I began shuffling them excitedly. Miss Peregrine had quite the collection from old musicals, to recent (well, 1930's) film sound tracks. My heart stopped when I found the record from the Wizard of Oz.

Returning to the kitchen, I placed the record on the phonograph, placed the needle, and we listened as we cooked. The children new the lyrics to all of the songs, surprisingly. I took it that it was one of their favorites to listen too. When the song "Merry Ol' Land of Oz" came on I found myself whirling around the kitchen with the children. Bronwyn began flipping flapjacks to the beat as she sang. Emma tapped a wooden spoon on the counter and Jacob started to dance as he whisked the eggs. Soon the four of us were caught up in the music and we began to stray away from our duties. We all became dazed in dancing and were whirling around the kitchen as if it were a Broadway stage. The next thing I knew, all of the other children rushed into the kitchen to join our dance. Claire and Olive were holding hands and were spinning around in circles. Millard, Enoch and Hugh were standing, arm-in-arm and were singing. Fiona and Horace were attempting to Irish tap dance.

Once the song was over and we all stopped to catch our breath, Claire fell on the floor and giggled. "I'm whipped now," she stated.

I caught my breath then clapped my hands together, like I was trying to reverse a curse. "All right, children! Back to work!" I sang. I was to be a ymbryne, so why not begin to practice now? "You young ones go up and freshen before breakfast," I ordered.

"But Minnette-," began Olive.

"Now!" I ordered.

When the meal was served and we were all readying to sit, I took it upon myself to take Miss Peregrine's seat at the head of the table. To my surprise, not one child questioned me. They all just ate and talked among themselves. Feeling much like Miss Peregrine herself as I sat in _her_ spot, overlooking_ her_ children, I felt as if I could pull out a pipe and light it. However, it was rude to smoke at the table, and especially not in front of the children. I ate my breakfast in silence.

"Miss Stonington?" asked Claire, as if I was her headmistress.

"Yes?" I asked.

"When can we have Miss Peregrine back?" she asked.

Then all of the children began to beg me for news of the headmistress. They grew quite loud and I couldn't quiet them enough to speak. I began to loose my patience. So, as hard as I could, I smacked a fist onto the table surface and yelled: "QUIET!"

The room then fell silent and the children seemed a little intimidated.

"Now," I began. I wiped my mouth gingerly with my lapkin. "Miss Peregrine has been through quite the ordeal in the past few hours. Miss Avocet is watching over her. I can assure you that she will be perfectly fine and everything will be back to normal soon enough," I said calmly.

"What do we do about the Wights?" asked Millard.

Good point. I focused on Jacob. "Mr. Portman, I assume that you would be willing to make patrols around the perimeter, just as before?" I asked.

Jacob nodded. "Of course."

"We musn't loose ourselves, children. Miss Avocet is here to offer her assistance until Miss Peregrine is well enough to resume her duties. Until then, I will have to take Miss Peregrine's place as your _ymbryne,_" the word practically choked me. "That means that what I say, goes."

"What about the loop?" asked Horace. "It will slip without Miss Peregrine and we'll all be blown to smithereens." At that the youngest children looked at me worriedly.

"I can assure you that Miss Avocet and I will handle it." I paused and pushed a piece of hair from my face. They all remained silent. "Any more questions?"

My answer was the shaking of heads.

"Good! Now, since Miss Peregrine is unable to teach, lessons are canceled until further notice. You may venture outside, but _not_ past the yard. And I beg you, please do not bother Miss Avocet. In fact, I better not catch any of you going into the drawing room. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Miss Stonington," they all said in unison.

"Excellent! You may go off and play."

Their chairs all made loud noises as they all dispersed from the room. Only me, Jacob and Emma were left. I placed my hands on my temples and leaned my elbows on the table. Emma and Jacob just sat looking at me. "What?" I asked.

Emma shook her head. "Oh, nothing. You just sound a lot like the bird is all," she replied.

I sighed. "This is not going to be easy," I remarked. "Would you two please keep a eye on the rest of them? I have to help Miss Avocet."

They nodded.

"I'll let you know if I feel the Wights around," Jacob said assuringly.

"Thank you."

"Want some help cleaning up?" asked Emma.

"No thank you. You two have already done enough. Go enjoy your day!"

I spent the next two and a half hours cleaning up the kitchen and dinning room. I scrubbed plates and pans until my hands were so soggy that they hurt. I swept both rooms, dusted and scrubbed the counter, the stove and even the sink. By the time that was done, I had around three hours until I had to serve the children lunch. It wouldn't be that difficult- these children ate just about anything.

I then made my way into the drawing room, where Miss Avocet was knitting. She had Miss Peregrine snuggled in her lap.

"How is she?" I asked.

Miss Avocet looked up. "She gets closer to normality ever moment. How are the wards?"

I wiped my hands on Miss Peregrine's apron, which I was still wearing. "Unruly," I replied. "However, with a little guidance, they are actually quite well-behaved. Miss Peregrine has done a phenomenal job with them."

Miss Avocet began to stroke Miss Peregrine's back. "You hear that, Alma? You have a ward that mothers-over your children just as intently as you do," she told the falcon.

"_Miss Stonington has the makings of a great ymbryne, Esmeralda," _said Miss Peregrine.

Miss Avocet froze. She narrowed her eyes at me for a second, then looked at Miss Peregrine, then looked back to me. "Ymbryne?" she asked. She scoffed. "No. You couldn't possibly be-,"

Miss Peregrine fluffed her feathers. _"It is true, Esmeralda. Young Miss Stonington is a fledgling." _

Miss Avocet looked as if she had just eaten a ghost pepper. Her jaw fell agape and she began to fan herself. She had to know sometime, and I rather that Miss Peregrine tell her than myself. Miss Avocet just stared. Then she straightened her posture and put her nose on the air. "Tell me, child, what species of bird are you?"

"A corvus corax," I replied.

She gasped. "A raven? Why, how unique! No wonder Alma finds you so special! Has she been teaching you?"

I nodded. "Yes. She taught me how to assume my alternate form," I said proudly.

"My, my, my," she remarked. "Can you speak the ymbryne language?"

I pursed my lips and began to coo. _"Absolutely. I learned from Miss Peregrine, as well."_

Miss Avocet then clapped her hands ecstatically. "Oh, wonderful! Alma, why on earth did you keep her hidden from me?"

Miss Peregrine squawked. _"In truth, Esmeralda, I became much too attached to Miss Stonington. It is not fair to my other wards, and, I apologize." _She folded a wing over her face shamefully.

"Nonsense, Alma! Do you think that I was not fond of_ you_? Why, you were my best behaved student."

"_I do not have time to dawdle with inappropriate behavior," _she snapped. She was beginning to sound like her old self again.

Miss Avocet began to stroke her again. "You'd be quite the addition to my new group of students next semester," she bragged.

I smiled. "Do you really think so?"

"I do. In fact, I do not receive my next group until an utter six months from now. You will have plenty of time to spend here with your Miss Peregrine."

Six months was a long time, and I hoped that it would be even longer in the loop. Miss Peregrine had taught me so much about ymbrynes in a manner of just a week and a half, I could just imagine where I'd be six months from now. I knew that I had the mannerisms, the ability to act authorative and, of course, the bird form. I knew that I was lacking time-manipulation skills, and lord knows what else.

"_Miss Raven," _said Miss Peregrine from Miss Avocet's lap. _"Come here."_

Miss Raven! My new name!

I knelt down in front of Miss Avocet's lap. Miss Peregrine presumed to stand up and flap her wings a few times. Her wound looked healthy and clean. I held out two fingers and she perched on them.

"_Have you got the children under control?" _she asked.

"_Yes, Headmistress. They have eaten and I've sent the out to play- not past the terrace, of course, and Mr. Portman is continuing his patrols for Wights and Hollows,"_ I informed her. 

"_Excellent. Now, do keep on them strong until I am back to human form."_

"_But, Alma, would you like me to assist her?" _asked Miss Avocet.

"_Of all you've ever done for me, Esmeralda, I couldn't ask you to bother with my wards. Besides, I believe that they will thrive well under Miss Raven's wing temporarily." _


	21. Stepping In

Taking care of the children wasn't as hard as I expected. They listened to me just as much as they listened to Miss Peregrine. I fed them a lunch of our regular goose sandwiches and I also whipped up some chocolate pudding. I had packed it in a basket so they could eat outside, as they enjoyed. I was half-tempted to join them. I was still a ward, after all, but, I knew that I had a job to do. When dinner rolled around I had Enoch, Hugh, Fiona, Emma, Jacob and Horace help me prepare the food. The children who were left were normally the kitchen crew, but I chose the ones who had not done it on account of fairness.

After the supper, I asked the children to bathe. After they all had I allowed them to romp around on the second floor until lights-out. I then took Miss Avocet and Miss Peregrine a platter of dinner. Both human and bird ymbryne ate quite a bit and I took pride in that.

"You are instructing the children well, Miss Raven," said Miss Avocet as she ate a piece of bread. "You will indeed make a fine ymbryne."

I thanked her kindly and headed back into the kitchen to clean up. When I was done, I hung up Miss Peregrine's apron and headed up to the second floor. I found the children noisily romping around the library. Considering the circumstances, I allowed them to romp on, for it seemed to distract them from the thought that Wights were looking for Miss Peregrine.

I bathed myself and slipped into the gown that Miss Peregrine had given me. I then took to the balcony in my room, cigarette in hand. As I smoked, I peered out into the darkness. The changeover had already happened and the house was veiled by night. It was quiet. Down on the edge of the yard I saw Jacob and Emma, hand-in-hand, patrolling. What a couple they made!

I had never felt so ymbryne- like before that moment. I stood on the balcony, overlooking the house, in an ymbryne's old gown, smoking like Miss Peregrine. In fact, the feeling was so peculiar that I was convinced that I almost could be Miss Peregrine.

But yet, I couldn't.

I was Miss Raven. I had no proper training, no loop, and no children to look after yet. All I had was someone else's wards to look after, a house that wasn't mine to guard from Wights, a very well-known guest to pamper, and a wounded ymbryne who could not change back. Yes, life was swell in the peculiar world, but this was just plain tiring. I had to give kudos to all of the ymbrynes that did this on a daily basis. Of course, I would be doing this later in life, but I wasn't ready for that yet.

I was no Miss Peregrine.

Deciding that the company of other ymbrynes and tea sounded nice, I made my way from my room. I stopped in the library and poked my head in.

"Children!" I sang. "You may continue to play, but please, do it quietly. I expect all of you in bed within the hour."

"Yes, Miss Stonington," they all answered.

I nodded and closed the door.

Making tea was nothing to me. I whipped up a whole kettle and took it into the drawing room on a platter. I knew at this point Miss Peregrine was unable to drink tea, but Miss Avocet and I sure could. The tea tasted so nice after chasing after children all day. Jacob nor Emma came in to report signs of Wights, so there must not have been any.

I sat with Miss Avocet and we jabbered on and on about the world that I had come from.

"Is it true that almost every citizen of America owns a motorcar?" asked Miss Avocet.

I stirred my tea slowly, my attention on the fire as it burned in the hearth. I thought of my Jetta, just sitting there lonely in the parking lot of the Rochester airport. Of course, it had been almost three months since I had left home, and I was pretty sure that it had been towed by now. Perhaps my parentals had realized that I was not coming home and they took it back. It could be my sister's car now, for all I cared. I had packed everything from inside it into my backpack. So it was just another empty car.

"Yes, that is true," I replied. "I have one, myself."

"Do you really?" she asked, interested. "Are they difficult to maneuver?"

I shook my head. "Not as long as one practices."

"I'm quite used to horses and carriages, myself," she explained. "Nothing like a good ole' hefty steed to carry you to your destination."

That reminded me heavily of the day that I had stolen the horse and cart from town. I hadn't known how to drive a horse, but I had ridden before, and I picked up on it quickly. I was more than sure that I could most definitely do it again.

"Is it also true that when you compose a letter, the receiver receives it instantly?"

"Yes," I replied.

"The fastest way I recall sending a letter is by bird." With that she began to giggle. Miss Peregrine crowed and Miss Avocet pet her head. "Think you can begin to deliver letters, Alma?" she teased.

Just then, I noticed Jacob and Emma walk past the drawing room. They were laughing. Yes, there was no Wights around. I focused on Miss Avocet again.

"_What undiluted balderdash, Esmeralda," _replied Miss Peregrine.

Miss Avocet eyed me curiously. "Have you any worries about becoming a ymbryne, Miss Raven?" she asked.

"Not really. I'm terrified of being captured by Wights, though."

"_You must connect with your children, Miss Raven. If need be, they can protect you."_

Miss Peregrine was right, the children had fought to defend her. I bet that Miss Avocet's children would do the same for her. I hoped that someday, if they needed too, my children would fight for me.

I took care of the children for almost ten days. I was stern about Miss Peregrine's rules, and I was not afraid to put my foot down when they became unruly. Bronwyn and Emma helped me with the young ones. Bronwyn was the one who tucked them in at night, anyway, not Miss Peregrine. Claire and Olive were especially fond of Bronwyn, so the fact that she was with them for the majority of the time did not bother them. I cooked, cleaned, watched over the children as they played, served meals, took care of Miss Avocet and helped Miss Avocet with Miss Peregrine. Of all the things I had to do, switching shifts with Miss Peregrine seemed the most important to me. Every other night, Miss Avocet would sleep in the second floor guest room, and I would sleep in the drawing room with Miss Peregrine. On nights that Miss Avocet stayed on, I slept in my own bed. Jacob continued his patrols, circling the house every two hours or so and twice at night.

To my surprise, the loop did not slip, as the children had feared. Even if it had, Miss Avocet would have been the one to step in and fix it, for I was not knowledgeable how to even construct a loop, let alone repair one.

As Miss Peregrine began to grow stronger and her wound healing, Miss Avocet took some time to herself each day, making the time longer every day. Soon, Miss Peregrine was able to stand, perch, eat and drink, but she could not fly yet.

It was almost fifteen days after her attack that she was finally ready to change back.

"She will do it in her own time," explained Miss Avocet. "I have managed to keep her as herself, rather then allowing her to turn bird."

"Turn bird?" I asked.

She sighed. "When a ymbryne remains a bird for an extended period of time, it is harder for her change back. Luckily, with the presence of another ymbryne, she is able to stay herself." Miss Avocet placed her hand over her heart. "It is something that only a true- hearted ymbryne can prevent."

"Do you think I am true-hearted?" I asked.

She shifted her head to one side and looked me in the eyes. "I believe that you will be one of the most strong-hearted ymbrynes there ever was. In fact, your Miss Peregrine has quite the strong will."

Miss Peregrine had been perching on a lamp in the drawing room as we had this conversation. When Miss Avocet called her strong-hearted, she managed to fly over and land on her shoulder. She then began to preen strands of Miss Avocet's white hair. I guess it annoyed Miss Avocet because her expressions sulked and the next thing I knew she thrashed her arms upward.

"Alma LeFay Peregrine!" she hissed, "you know how much I dislike being pecked at!"

Miss Peregrine then flew over to my shoulder and began to preen my hair. I did nothing. Miss Avocet then instructed me that allowing another ymbryne to peck at me in such a way was utterly rude, and embarrassing. So then, I tried to shoo away Miss Peregrine, but all she did was peck me. She did not agree.

I adored the woman too much to shoo her, so I allowed her to go about preening me. She continued happily.

"_I can assure you that I will be myself again before the night is out," _said Miss Peregrine. _"I shall wait until the children are asleep, so I can transform privately." _

"_It'll be so nice having you back, Headmistress," _I said.

I spent the rest of the day tending to the children. I prepared lunch, I even took some time to play with them on the terrace. We romped around until it was time for supper. I had Emma and Jacob grab a goose for me, and Claire and Olive helped me with everything else. Soon we were all joined at the table, eating food that was just as delicious as if Miss Peregrine had made it. I had the children to help me make food the way she normally did it. Once supper was finished, I excused the children to wash up for bed.

I then set to work preparing dinner for Miss Avocet and Miss Peregrine. Miss Avocet was insistent that she eat after the children, claiming that they were most important in a young ymbrynes life. Such was true, but I felt horrible making them wait for sometimes dinner went slow that we'd still be sitting at the table during the changeover. The house would begin to shake, then the bomb would drop, the white flash would appear, and we'd all remain at the table eating when the "smoke" cleared.

I found Miss Avocet strolling around the back garden, Miss Peregrine on her shoulder. They walked along, speaking in ymbryne. I strode right up to them.

"Dinner has been set out for you in the drawing room," I said.

"Thank you, Miss Raven," said Miss Avocet.

I led her into the drawing room and joined her, a cup of tea in my hands. We talked of different birds as they ate. Miss Peregrine was enjoying the pieces of goose I had cut up for her. She squawked between bites. When they finished, I took care of the dishes, then climbed to the second floor to put the children to bed.

When I left Claire and Olive's room- they were last because they were youngest, I pressed myself against the door and smiled. I knew. It was time for Miss Peregrine to change back, and when the children awoke, they'd find her and I preparing breakfast.


End file.
